


Rapunzel, Rapunzel

by SillyBlue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Banishment, Cas just wants to be a good parent, Cursed Sam Winchester, Deals With Witches, Difficult Decisions, Flirty Dean Winchester, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, Lonely Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Parent Castiel (Supernatural), Prince Dean Winchester, Rapunzel Elements, Rowena wants to sell Sam on the Goblin Market, Unhelpful Gabriel (Supernatural), Very very temporary major character death, Witch Castiel (Supernatural), sharing a horse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-12-31 20:50:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21152009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyBlue/pseuds/SillyBlue
Summary: After spending years doing the bloody work for a witch, Castiel vows to never do another act of black magic. When he consequently refuses an order by the Queen he gets banished to a lonely tower. 10 years later, the Queen finds herself confronted with a difficult decision: her youngest son is cursed and could unleash destruction on the kingdom. Since locking up her problems in a dark, gloomy tower on the edge of the wild world of magic seemed to work before, she gives the child up to Castiel.18 years later Prince Dean shows up at the tower expecting to save his brother from an evil witch. However, Sam, lovingly raised by Cas, snuck out on an adventure to celebrate his coming of age, leaving Dean to team up with Cas to find Sam before dark forces can try to use him for evil.A spin on the fairy tale of Rapunzel.





	1. Once upon a Time

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking on this year's DCBB story! I've been meaning to write Rapunzel with a twist for years now! Some of you might have seen me chat about it a long time ago on tumblr. And here we finally are!
> 
> This story incorporates elements of the original fairy tale, but also brings in some ideas from Tangled as well as canon story details. I hope you find the mix entertaining to read!
> 
> A big thank you to my artist Rauko-is-a-free-elf who made absolutely gorgeous fanart for this story and I couldn't be more thrilled! [ Please check out the art masterpost!](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/rauko-is-a-free-elf/188550088487)
> 
> Also thank you to my wonderful beta bella-monoxide!

As you well know, every story has its beginning.

A root out of which wondrous tales grow. And this story started, in a way, with a plant. A Rapunzel, to be specific. If you are common and barely magic, you might know this little plant as _corn salad_. What a demeaning name for such a precious wee weed! It may be a salad to most people but to a witch it is known as an excellent natural storage for magic. And if you are 300 years old, it's important to pay attention to your nutrition. You can't go eating children or drinking the blood of virgins once you're past 120. It's not good for your bowels. Cultivating a good, magic-rich Rapunzel takes great work and you can imagine that witches are not very excited if some foolish mortal comes to eat the fruit of their labor. But, as it is, good things come out of misfortunes. And if you happen to be a witch, you always know how to count on the misfortunes of others to be your blessing.

Speaking of misfortunes, let us hurry on and jump right into that one fateful night, almost as fateful as a greedy scribe stealing Rapunzel and paying dearly for it.

The kingdoms were at war, bloody, spectacular war, like most wars between humans and demons tended to be. Maybe it was raining that particular night, maybe it was the clearest night of all, but to give this moment the drama it deserves:

Thunder boomed overhead, a crack that rent the sky apart in violent white, sending the sky ablaze in pale purples, casting the looming clouds into even deeper shade. The tormented princess, driving the horses with a fierce, desperate whip and ruby slippers pressed into the hot skin of the animal underneath her, barely noticed it. Her face was icy, the rain drops lashing angrily at her pale skin and her eyes were wide with fear. The wagon wheels strained in the desperate run through the wild forest, the muddy ground viciously greedy to swallow the riders up, but the wagon persevered. It was hard to recognize her in this state and with her fine dress stained with blood, but it was Mary, crown princess of the kingdom of Campbell, who was riding like she was trying to outrun the devil. And in a way she was. She had escaped the ambush of the yellow eyed fiend with her life, which was more than what could be said of the vast majority of the party she had traveled with. And now, the inescapable entity followed her, was sitting in the wagon with her father, waiting for its next victim with the patience of a being that knows it will ultimately always get what it desires. But still, what Mary tried to do in this dark night was just that: outrun death.

With a scream she stopped in her tracks, crashing out of the forest and into a crossroad. Just ahead of her there was a gate, and behind it only the dim flickering lights through the sheets of rain hinted at a house. Mary was gasping, her breath forming violent clouds, not unlike those of the beasts that had carried her here. For a moment she was unmoving, afraid of what was to come, but then Mary spotted a figure at the gate, shielded against the rain by a heavy cloak. As Mary commanded the horses to pull the carriage right up to the gate the figure lowered its hood to reveal a man with dark hair, quickly turning black in the falling rain. But the night and thunder did nothing to dim the unnaturally bright blue eyes. This man had various names in his life, but nowadays people called him Castiel. And Castiel was the witch of the realm.

You must see, there is a very specific reason why Mary chose to seek his help. There were witches all throughout the lands, at least there were at the time. Good witches and bad witches and everything in between. Kingdoms of old chose to secure the services of a witch for a variety of benefits. Witches who you chose to affiliate yourself with as a king or a queen could make or break a kingdom.

Now, the witch the princess had sought out in her most dire hour was… well, see for yourself.

Mary hurried up to the gate which Castiel opened. He held out an unlit lantern. With the next flash of lighting that blinded Mary, the lantern ignited with a blue flame.

"Mary," the witch spoke, his voice grave as he understood the severity of the situation.

"We were ambushed! I managed to take the carriage and break away, but… but my father and… John…!" Mary's voice hitched with a sob and she bit her lips. "You must heal them!" Castiel listened to her words without comment, while they were hurrying over to the carriage. Mary ripped the door open and Castiel inched back slightly as the aura of death's presence greeted him. He was sure what he would find, still he shone his lamp into the interior. The King of Campbell lay dead on the bench, his eyes unseeing, mouth still open on the surprised gasp when the demon lance had pierced his heart. The crown prince of Winchester, John, the future husband of Mary, was shivering in the dark, what he still had of his life sluggishly bleeding out of him. With a grim face the witch turned to Mary.

"I can heal Prince John, but the king has already died." Mary only stared at him, clearly she must have already known of her father's demise. "I can't do anything for him." Now, the future queen widened her eyes, despair warring with defiance.

"No…! No, you can! I know you can!" she shouted. "You're a witch, you can raise the dead!" Castiel only gazed at her with pity, but that angered the princess. "Do it! Bring him back!"

"I have taken a vow to never use dark magic to bend the course of nature," Castiel told her. "If that is the kind of magic you want, then you shouldn't have come here." Mary was speechless, the pain inside of her churning, darkening. Castiel noticed and quickly took a step forwards. "But let me get to John, there is still hope for him." Mary however reached behind her, pulling the dagger her father still had at his belt out, holding it to Castiel's throat.

"You're the witch of the realm and I am your future queen! If I order you to heal both, you cannot refuse!" Castiel didn't move from his position, unafraid of the danger and his loyalty untouched by the show of disrespect.

"But I will refuse," he said and the tip of the dagger pointed at Castiel's throat trembled as Mary cried.

"You cannot! I forbid you! If you do not follow my orders this is treason and you will be punished with banishment!" That did put a crack in Castiel's heart, but it did not break his resolve.

"There are vows that are stronger than any order even my queen can give me," he said and Mary screamed at him. She didn't harm him, but she screamed out her despair and her anger and pain. Castiel let her air her grief, but the time was pressing. "Please," he beseeched her. "Please let me heal John." But something had happened within Mary as her scream had died down to nothing but silence. The storm still raged without care or pity for the sorrows of mortals, but Mary was now quiet.

"No. You have failed me," she said, her voice raw from crying but icy. The look she gave Castiel was full of contempt. "You have betrayed the kingdom. Get out of my sight." Castiel took a deep breath, steeling himself. He studied the princess, but in the end he gave a jerky nod and stepped away. Mary shot one longing, wounded look into the wagon, then she slammed it shut and got back on the horse. The cry of a lone crow rang out between the clap of thunder. Castiel looked up and saw golden eyes study him from the tree branch above.

"Ride east. Follow the crow and try your luck," Castiel said. Mary's harsh expression flickered to confusion until Castiel lifted his lamp and the blue glow reflected on the shiny wings of the crow as it flew down with a call. It circled over the carriage, making Mary flinch, then it soared up high. Mary didn't reply and she didn't look back.

As Castiel watched Mary depart, he must have asked himself if turning Mary away to follow the laws that bound him, had been the right thing to do. Was Castiel righteous? Where did he fall in this great balance between good and evil witches? But Castiel left that question unanswered, turning away and closing the gate behind himself. It was done. He had made his choice.

But so had Mary. And there were witches out there who will do anything for a price. Mary, riding hard under the rain, always turning her gaze up to observe the crow fly over her head, found one such witch. But the difference between Castiel and this witch was that Castiel never demanded anything in return for his services. Golden eyes glowing mischievously in the firelight, the witch gave the future queen dripping rain on his expensive rug a choice.

"You bring death to my door and you bring a demand. Pretty insolent, don't you think?" he asked, his voice amused. He was slouching in his chair, resting his cheek on his fingers. Witches traditionally didn't care for monarchs and this particular witch was no exception.

"I understand there will be a price," the princess said. Her voice was not as sharp as it had been when she had faced down Castiel. Grief had filled almost all the spaces in her heart and mind, because when she had arrived at the witch's manor, help had been too late for John as well.

"Oh, there will," the witch said, eyebrows rising and smile widening in undisguised delight. He lifted his head away from his hand, freeing it to snap his fingers. The princess flinched but when she opened her eyes again two tables stood between her and the witch, lying on them the pale bodies of her deceased father and betrothed. The witch clapped his thighs with his palms, the sound loud in the silence. "So! But first things first. You brought two dead people."

"We were ambushed, by-"

"Shush," the witch said, flicking his hand out to her and Mary fell into an indignant silence. "I do not care about the technicalities. Let's look at this from a practical side." The witch held out both of his hands towards the bodies. "Two bodies." Then he pointed back at himself. "One spell."

"I don't… I don't understand…?"

"I will revive one of them. Just one," the witch said. Mary stilled in horror, not having expected such a limitation.

"No! I demand you revive both!"

"And if I don't, what could you possibly do?" the witch challenged, his grin fierce almost as if he wished Mary would threaten him. Mary however was speechless. "Look sweetheart. I'm not the mushy kind of witch. I don't do magic out of the goodness of my heart, especially not this kind of magic. So, here's the deal. You make a choice. Your father or your lover. I will revive one." Mary bit her lips, looking from her father to John. Right about now, she felt deep regret not to have allowed Castiel to heal John.

"John," she finally said and the witch nodded.

"What will the price be, witch?" Mary asked, her voice devoid of emotion as she observed the witch step towards the table where John lay. "My first-born?" The witch laughed.

"No, I've got no interest in a first-born. Too much of a hassle," he said. "The price I will ask you to pay isn't what I would usually charge for this kind of magic. And make no mistake, the price for reviving the dead, especially if the supplicant is a royal, is steep. A life for a life. Or… a soul." Mary took a step backwards, frightened but never changing her expression. The witch winked at her. "But that's boring. No. I will not take from you, but instead I will make things… well… let's say interesting." Mary stared at him, but the witch snapped his fingers and John sat up with a gasp. Mary tore her eyes off the witch, jumping to John to embrace him.

"M… Mary? What… what happened?" he asked.

"Shhh… It's alright. Everything's alright," Mary soothed him, kissing his head, but then she sought out the witch's eyes.

"In ten years," he announced, "I will be back with a challenge."

After that dreadful night, when the pact was made, Mary was crowned queen. She and John destroyed their enemies, righteous and all-consuming in their revenge. But they also severed ties that should have been binding.

The kingdom of Winchester celebrated the defeat and death of the army of Prince Azazel. But even though the victorious banners flew in the city and people breathed a sigh of relief in all of the territories of Winchester, there was also tension.

The people were lining the street leading from the castle gates, far beyond the city limits, where the pavement became cobbled stone, houses scattered, faces grimmer. The noises died down to a hush when the castle gates were thrown open. The guards were dragging someone out, hands wrapped around a rope, tugging the unresisting figure. Mary watched with a stony face as Castiel was dragged out of court, stripped off his robes and garments that had collected the dirt of days spent in the dungeon. Banishments were great shows that were often accompanied by people shouting their anger and disgust, throwing things and spitting at the traitor. But as Castiel was pulled through the town as a show of his disgrace, no choruses of the mob calling for his destruction followed. Castiel was silent, sad as he was expelled, and so were the onlookers. For Castiel had served the kingdom with a heart rare to people of his creed, unfailing, righteous. A proper witch of the realm.

Some mourned him but there were also those who were not particularly sad to see magic banished to the fringes of their land. You see, humans had become cocky, believing themselves advanced beyond the need for magic. That indeed the world of magic was a relic of a wild and uncivilized past that human progress had made redundant. Castiel had not cared about those sentiments as the whispers of discontent had raised up among court, neither had he turned a worried eye towards the talks of a land without magic as the idea spread to the higher ranking members of town and out through the realm until the idea was there, in the heads and hearts of people. Winchester, a land without magic, without the supernatural. Without monsters. Had the poor fool paid them any close attention he might have avoided the shameful experience of being loaded upon a cart, sat upon dirty straw and pulled out through the city gate, for all of Winchester to gawk at as he was driven to the very edge of the realm.

The Queen of Winchester exiled him to a place known as Rapunzel's tower, a little crumbling cottage with an unusual tower clumsily sitting on top of it. It lay where the realm of humans fringed out into the wild land of magic, where witches, goblins and demons roamed. A high tower, an overgrown garden filled with thorny bushes, to keep him isolated, so that he too would suffer the pain that Mary had suffered by his refusal to help.

And that's where he is still staying now, poor sod. A happy ending for the queen of Winchester, a lesson taught to the supposedly evil witch, book closed. If this were a fairy tale told by foolish human parents to their wee ones.

Let's begin the real story.


	2. The Blessing

It was rare for a human to make the journey to Rapunzel's tower, especially when weighed down by precious cargo. But a human was guiding his horse through the slim path, the trees flanking it rising high, branches almost interlocking above. Spots of cheery sunlight danced on his face as he looked up, but otherwise his face was thrown into shadows by a wide brimmed hat. A basket was carefully secured to the horse's back, rocking lightly as the horse stepped in and out of rays of light. It was a nice day, but it was the end of a perilous journey and the man with the precious cargo was tired. He saw the path opening up not far ahead, but despite the sun there was a light mist of the early morning rising out of the wilderness. And not far beyond the forest sunk into darkness, as if the sun was too shy to shine on it. The traveler slowed his horse, not far from where there was an old stone fence, the wood of the gate rotted away mostly, a few bits of it valiantly hanging on to the rusted hinges. He had heard tales of this place, of the plants here being fed foul magic and the blood of the witch knight Rapunzel's victims. It was supposed to be an impenetrable, evil garden, with a tower rising above the thorny bushes, casting its shadow on any doomed visitor. That wasn't exactly what the traveler found. A slight squirming of the bundle he kept strapped to his chest reminded him to get back into motion. He urged the horse closer and was heartened when the beast didn't resist. Animals, it was told, were sensible to evil magic and would refuse to step closer to it.

He reached the gate, awkwardly looking around. He let his eyes sweep over what wasn't the overgrown, hostile wilderness that he had come to expect. This was a garden, one that was still wild, with human hands barely able to contain its natural desire to spread and grow. But it was a garden nevertheless and right there, watering the salad, was Castiel. Of course, he was a witch, so the traveler found Castiel's eyes already on him, his face pulled into a puzzled frown, but there was no malice in his expression. Castiel put down the watering can and approached. His clothes were dirty and in disarray. His hair had grown long again, held back in an unruly, dark braid that had a day's work of gardening stuck to it. His cheeks were scruffy too and he looked more like the wild creature he really was than he had back at court.

"Bobby," Castiel said, walking up to what remained of the gate. The traveler lifted his hat in greeting, showing himself to in fact be Sir Robert Singer, steward to King John. In days past, Castiel would have approached Bobby with his arms lifted for one of his slightly awkward hugs. But Bobby knew that the ban circle didn't allow Castiel to step out. Technically he should have been confined to just the tower, but those weren't spells they could perform without the help of the court witch they were trying to lock away for one hundred years (or however long a witch's life lasted). It was peculiar seeing Castiel now and Bobby would be lying to himself if there wasn't an intense sense of shame taking residence in his chest. But he pushed it aside because he had important business to attend to.

"Your banishment doesn't look that bad," Bobby said instead of greeting the witch, looking around the garden. Castiel interested gaze closed off and Bobby knew he shouldn't have joked about it. He coughed uncomfortably.

"I have done a lot of weeding," Castiel answered.

"Exile hasn't changed you much. I don't think you've aged a day," Bobby added, still awkward. Castiel's eyes travelled to the corn salad on a little plot behind him.

"I'm a witch," Castiel said.

"You were born to human parents," Bobby argued. It was an old point of conversation between them, one Bobby had both enjoyed and found irritating. He had always wanted to get more information out of the witch, but Castiel had enjoyed an air of mystery around himself.

"I've been eating well," he said flatly. Of course, Bobby knew the rumours. Of how Castiel had ended up in a witch's service because his parents exchanged him for corn salad. He doubted that was true, but unfortunately for Castiel, the rumours were very accurate. The price of corn salad had greatly exceeded the value of first-born sons those days. Or at least on that particular day, for that particular witch and that particular unfortunate slob of a father.

Bobby on his part was not entirely sure what to say. This was probably the first time in years that Castiel had seen a familiar face, he should at least make some conversation before he disappeared again.

"Have you never tried to leave your tower, Cas?" he wondered, looking at the ineffective gate. Castiel shook his head.

"I have been banished. I'm not welcome to set foot into the lands of Queen Mary."

"Surely the spells she used couldn't stop you. Not really," Bobby argued, eying the faded sigils on the stone wall. The signs in the ground had long been washed away by the elements. Castiel's expression was still stern, almost stubborn.

"A closed door is not supposed to be opened even if it is unlocked," he said firmly. Bobby opened his mouth, but Cas interrupted him, his voice gruff:

"It was a long journey for you, just to make idle conversation. What is it that you seek?" Bobby was almost glad that he no longer had to fill the silence with small talk, something that had never been particularly pleasant with the witch.

"I seek nothing but what is owed. A blessing by the good witch." Castiel's confused expression changed into wonder and then shock as Bobby carefully unwrapped the bundle strapped to his chest, to reveal an infant. The infant was awake and looking up at Castiel with big green eyes, his cheeks flushed a healthy red and his mouth forming a pink pout as he contemplated the witch. Castiel stared at him in awe.

"This is the crown prince, the first born of the realm," the witch concluded, his voice quiet so as not to startle the child. Bobby nodded. "I've felt the magic of the birth call out to me even this far away," Castiel continued. He lifted his hand, reaching it out gently, but before he could make contact, he withdrew it quickly. He lifted his gaze to Bobby. "It can't be that Queen Mary has asked for my blessing after all?" There was no denying the shivering thread of hope in Cas' voice. It _had_ been six years of isolation.

Bobby sighed and Castiel's hopeful expression was quickly tucked away.

"No… But she also hasn't been able to strike an allegiance with the witch that granted her wish. And it's not right for the crown prince to go unblessed. It's bad luck, all the 12 good fairies agree." Not that the queen was keen on asking the 12 good fairies their opinion, but Bobby had asked, so had a great many people outside of the capital.

"Why then?" Castiel wondered and tilted his head in confusion when Bobby's expression took on the hint of mischief.

"I smuggled Dean out, under pretense of presenting him to a fairy circle for a blessing," he said and Castiel snorted in surprise. "Because as much as the king and queen were hoping for their reign to be one of no magical interference, they still wanted to profit off of it."

"You take great risks for this," Castiel said and then he looked at the child. "For Dean." Bobby shrugged, slightly jostling the boy, who didn't complain, having fallen back asleep.

"Yeah well. I'll be fine," he said but both of them knew what Queen Mary, even though she was a just and kind ruler, could do to people who she thought betrayed her. But there was still John, who was usually more level-headed. "So!" Bobby started again, then he held out Prince Dean. He put him across the invisible boundaries of Castiel's exile, forcing Cas to take the baby into his arms. "Your wish for Dean!" Castiel held on to him clumsily for only as long as it took him to get over his surprise. Then he looked very comfortable with the small child in his arms.

"I'm not well prepared," Castiel said, as he studied Dean's sleeping face. Bobby snorted.

"Who are you kidding. You've been ready to bless your first king for years, haven't you?" Castiel sheepishly admitted to it with a small nod. "Go ahead then."

Castiel lowered his gaze back down to the little prince. He looked angelic in the early morning light, with his perfect wisp of golden hair, resting in the crook of Castiel's arm. Not touched in the least by the dirt on the witch's clothes or the gloomy darkness of the wild forest looming not too far away. Bobby waited with bated breath. He had seen blessings before, also done by Castiel. But witch blessings of future kings or queens were exceedingly rare nowadays.

"Prince Dean...," Castiel started, "I wish upon you beauty, a heart that is strong and pure-"

"He's not a princess!" Bobby interjected, more amused than in real protest.

"Universal good qualities", Castiel argued, only lifting his eyes off of Dean to shoot Bobby a frown. "And to be honest I had expected Winchester to be ruled by a queen after King John," he said. "Are you sure it's a boy?" Bobby levelled an unimpressed stare at him from under the brim of his hat. Castiel heaved a sigh and decided to continue his blessing: "And no matter where you will go and how dire the circumstances are, you will always find people to fight for you."

Prince Dean mostly slept through this monumental, if not _the_ most monumental day of his early life, but now he did look upon Cas, a lazy one-eyed blink to study the witch. Castiel smiled at him, but made a face like he had pulled a muscle afterwards since in his isolation he had almost forgotten what it was like to smile. You see, witch or not, Cas used to be human once and humans are quick to become bitter. While he was sad to put Dean back into Bobby's care, waving them good-bye, meeting Dean had left Cas with the clouds over his mind lifted. There was still a world out there, not just the emptiness of his isolation and the pressing darkness of the realm of magic demanding him to turn his back on the world of humans. As Bobby started the journey home, Cas turned back to his garden and found it in bloom.


	3. Price to Pay

As was the nature of human life, the years passed. While the witch Castiel watched his plants grow and practiced the art of reading the patterns of flying crows (there was really not much to do in his tower, the man needed to find entertainment in something), King John and Queen Mary welcomed their second child into the world. As it was custom, they invited the realm to welcome him properly when he turned 6 months old. Mary and her husband had been less concerned about little Sam since he was free from the potential curse of the first-born. But still Mary was nervous as she paced the nursery on the morning of the celebration, her son in her arms. Dean was playing in the room, unaware of her distress, as children often were at no fault of their own. He was a beautiful child with golden locks, healthy pink cheeks and eyes a beautiful green that filled all onlookers with admiration and love. If someone other than Castiel had blessed Dean with such qualities, it would have been very likely for Prince Dean to turn into a spoiled, ungrateful brat. Luckily, Dean was deserving of all love, since he was a gentle child that met everyone with open curiosity and willingness to show them all the love his little heart could give. And he doted on his younger brother, not one moment wasted to jealousy.

"Mary, it's going to be fine," John said, from his seat by the window. He had placed himself there to watch the procession of people, most of the nobles being spread out over the ample space of Winchester castle. But he had been watching his wife pace for the last half hour, holding onto little Sammy like someone would swoop in through the closed windows and steal him. Mary had eyed the golden eyed crow that used to hang out in their gardens for a while now, as if she suspected the animal of foul-play.

"You can't know that, John," Mary said tensely. "The witch said ten years. And the completion of those ten years must be upon us." Technically, it was past ten years now, but Mary wasn't sure how punctual witches were with things like these.

"He didn't come for Dean," John started, "and he made no claim on Sammy either." It had been meant to soothe Mary's nerves, but it backfired.

"Exactly! So what does he want?" John sighed, lifting his hand to rub at his cheek. He understood his wife's worry, felt it himself as well, but they had been living with the fear of consequences for so long now that he had grown weary.

"Maybe the witch forgot and won't come to collect at all," John argued. Mary shot him an incredulous look.

"That is impossible," she admonished, a hint of reprimand in her voice because clearly John wasn't taking this as seriously as he should.

"Mary," John started, getting up from his chair. Dean looked up at him with a bright smile as he passed, so he bent down to pat him on the head fondly.

"We have made all possible preparations. We warded against the witch, we banished magic as much as we could. Despite the potential diplomatic repercussions, we even have invited none of the 12 good fairies," John explained. He was admittedly worried about that last part. The fairies were miffed about being excluded from something as joyous as the presentation of prince Sammy. Winchester had sent out many of its diplomats to do expensive damage control because fairies, no matter how good, aren't to be trifled with if you offended them.

"I know…" Mary agreed, but she wasn't happy.

"No witch should be able to get to Sam or any of us. The ten years pass and nothing will happen," John assured her.

"But John," Mary said, her voice small and regretful, "What if the witch decides to punish me after all? What if he takes what he gave me and kills you?" Her voice hitched slightly and she closed her eyes. It didn't stop a tear from escaping and landing on Sammy's chubby cheek. John sighed. He had secretly thought about that and discussed it with his advisors before. Just to be ready.

"This is a sacrifice I would be willing to make if it meant that you and the children were safe," he promised. And he meant it. John lifted up Dean from where he was playing and brought him over to where Mary was still pacing. Mary looked at John and then at her children. It was this family that she chose all those years ago when the witch had asked her to choose. She would not allow anything to endanger it.

But as it turned out, it wasn’t John that would have to pay the price of Mary's choice.

The great viewing of little prince Sam was a wonderful party. Almost as grand as the one for prince Dean had been. With people (all humans) from near and far coming to look into the crib, coo over his adorable chubby cheeks and dazzling laughter, bringing with them gifts and well-wishes. However, as Mary and John were about to finally relax and let their guard down, the doors to the great hall where they had set up Sam's viewing, opened up once more. The guards jumped to the side in surprise and the people protecting the royal family on the other side of the room were quick to draw their blades. All the cheerful voices in the room had broken off in surprise and all stared at the open door. Some guards and servants who had been outside peeked in curiously.

"Maybe the wind?" Lady Harvelle wondered, from where she stood next to Sam's crib. There was a light wind that was ruffling the expensive fabrics of the crib and the nobles' clothes. Mary was on alert, even as the head of the guard called out for the doors to be closed. However, before they could, a single crow walked into the room, its golden eyes looking around. The gathered people didn't know how to react, some laughed uneasily, some relaxed. But that also meant that the gazes were all drawn away from where Sam was.

"How can you guys be having a party without inviting me!" a voice called, loud as thunder and with a mock offended tone. Mary jumped up from her chair, breath stuck in her chest, as she saw the witch stand next to Sam's crib. Lady Harvelle must have gotten a fright, but she was a strong woman and never one to show when she was taken by surprise. The witch winked at her, which Lady Harvelle answered with a blank look. The witch was dressed in extraordinary clothes, as fine as the ones the richest nobles were dressed in. He didn’t look at all like a witch, if it weren't for the mischievous glint in his golden eyes. "How dreadfully rude!"

"Witch," Mary said, but faltered when he set his eyes on her.

"My name's Gabriel, by the way. Sure you haven't forgotten all about that, right, little queen?" the witch asked. "Because it would be a damn embarrassment if you hadn't only lost my invitation after we had agreed to meet again ten years after our pact but also forgotten my name!" A low murmuring and some gasps went through the people in the room at that revelation. "And all those sigils and scribbles on the castle grounds? A new art project?" he asked with a teasing voice and looked towards Lady Harvelle. "Not very well done, right? Is their court witch on vacation?" Lady Harvelle frowned at him.

"There is no court witch. This is a realm without magic," she said with contempt. At this point a friend of Lady Harvelle was wise and courageous enough to pull her back, so that she couldn't accidentally offend Gabriel enough to be turned into a frog. 

"A realm without magic, are you sure?" he asked and then turned towards the royal couple, eying John up and down. "Seems like it's owed to magic that you now have a king sat on this throne and not a sack of bones." The muttering started back up at that. John looked on grimly, level-headed enough not to aggravate the powerful witch and instead approach this dangerous situation with a clear mind. Mary however was not so much in possession of her full wits, as she was almost out of her mind with fear.

"You are not going to take Sam from us!" she shouted. Gabriel snorted, waving his hand at her dismissively.

"Oh, would you relax," he said boredly. "I have no use for a child, not a second born, not a prince. My dark magic pantry is fully stocked." A somewhat almost comedic shudder went through the nobles in the room as they all imagined a pantry stocked full of babies for the witch to eat. Witches had developed a better palate over the years, but what did humans know of witchy cuisine?

"I told you that I wouldn't take your kids. Don't you remember our conversation? I've come here to put you to the test," Gabriel announced.

"To the test…? What does that mean?" Mary asked, but she was lifting her head up now. Losing her children was a horrible thought, but facing a challenge? She could do that.

"What I mean is that I've come here to give you a challenge and witness how you solve it. Here!" Gabriel spread his arms wide. "In front of all these people of your realm!" He looked intimidating and dangerous for a moment, but Gabriel was quick to drop the act and put the smirk back into place. "But you don't have to worry, you won't be graded for your work." John and Mary looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Now, come on. Come close, to the crib," Gabriel invited Mary, holding out his hand. Mary wasn't exactly one to back down from anything, especially if she felt it was her duty. But John held out his hand, stopping her.

"Guards! Apprehend him!" he called. The guards, even though they were in over their heads, followed their king's command loyally. They rushed at Gabriel, swords and spears lifted, but it only took one careless flick of Gabriel's wrist to send them all crashing into walls and other people.

"Don't bother… What do you expect a mortal can do against me? Don't waste their lives this carelessly," Gabriel said and there was a sharp edge to his words. "Only a powerful witch could stop me." Gabriel made an exaggerated show of craning his neck and as if looking for someone. "Now where's your cute little lap dog? What was his name? Castiel?" Nobody could offer a reply, John and Mary looking at Gabriel gravely, Mary's face pale. "Castiel, now that's a witch who could deal out some damage, even I would be watching my back around that guy. But oooooh!" Gabriel shouted, making the people closest flinch at his sudden change of tone. "No luck! You banished the guy!" Nobody really paid the words much attention, but prince Dean looked up from where he was sitting in the lap of his nurse. He was worried, but not as much as he should be, because Dean had never been in any danger in his life. But he was curious and attentive and since this Gabriel person was new and interesting, he picked out right away that he was angry about what had happened to Castiel. Granted, Dean didn't know that Castiel was the one who had left the little mark of a blessing on his shoulder. He simply knew that Gabriel wasn't happy with his parents. John and Mary however, were too preoccupied to pick up on that or else they might have started negotiations. But neither of them had spared Castiel any thought since his banishment up until now. Gabriel must have noticed, as he scrunched up his nose and then dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

"No matter. Just don't waste anybody's life on this, because it's not that hard." He reached into his robes and produced a little vial with a dark red substance. He gave it a little shake, the thick dark liquid moving. "Can you guess what this is? You've shed enough of it for it to look somewhat familiar to you." He turned around, so everybody present could get a good look at it and plenty of nobles were trying to catch a glimpse. "No?" he asked when everybody remained silent. He turned to hold the vial up to the advisors and head of the guard, who did flinch. "Yes, you do know." John quizzically looked to Bobby, who was pale under his hat.

"It's blood," he said. "Demon blood." John turned to look at Gabriel, disquieted by Bobby's and Knight Anna's grim expressions, but not sure what this would lead to. Gabriel gave the vial a spin, tossing it into the air and catching it casually. He was waiting for Mary to make a move, keeping his eyes fixed on her. Mary breathed in deeply and then she approached. John still made a move to catch her but she evaded him and Anna put her hand on his shoulder to stay him. The kingdom couldn't risk losing both the queen and the king today.

"How will you solve this challenge?" Gabriel asked when Mary was close. She tensed, observing Gabriel warily. Sam was still out of reach, she had to plan carefully if she wanted to snatch him and get him to safety. No matter what Gabriel was planning, it couldn't be good. "Will you solve it as a wife? As a mother? As a queen?" Gabriel's voice was loud, carrying through the entire room as the people awaited the announcement of the challenge. "Prove to us who you are, you who banishes good magic but invites in the dark to get back what you love."

Without losing a beat, Gabriel opened the vial and poured the blood into Sam's mouth. Mary shouted in alarm but it was too late. Sam made a face and started crying. Gabriel lifted up the empty vial. "I have just fed prince Sam demon blood!" he announced. "Something dark and evil is now inevitably spreading within this child. Something that has the potential to turn this adorable baby into the downfall of this kingdom, maybe even _all_ human kingdoms!" Gasps went through the guests and Mary stared at Sam in horror. "Look at the boy, so adorable, so innocent, but upon his 18th birthday he will fully come into his powers. And he can destroy you." Gabriel's curse spread through the room like a cold wind, making people gasp and shiver, horror written onto their faces, scared already of someone so innocent and helpless. Gabriel observed the turning of people's hearts with grim satisfaction. Mary and John were noticing it too, Mary looking from friends to allies, finding all of them looking either hard or averting their eyes. Gabriel smiled at her.

"So, Mary, what will you do to the little boy king of hell?" And just as swiftly as he came, Gabriel disappeared, leaving the room in shocked silence. If it weren't for Sam, who was still crying pitifully. Nobody dared to approach him. Mary felt like she had swallowed ice, taking small steps backwards, away from her wailing son. It was Dean, who heard his brothers cries of growing distress. He wiggled off his nurse's lap, who was too stunned to put up much of a fight when he escaped her arms. The little boy ran over to the crib. He was too small to be able to take him out of it, but he could climb up and slip into the crib with him. Dean gathered his brother into his arms and tried to soothe him, clumsily rocking him. The last drops of blood were wiped away on Dean's collar. Sam's cries turned into hiccups.

"You're okay Sammy, I'll protect you," Dean vowed. Slowly Sam opened his eyes to look at Dean. Dean opened his mouth in surprise, but it was everybody else that gasped in horror when Sam's eyes glowed gold.

The demon blood was working its dark magic.

And Queen Mary would have to make her choice.


	4. The Witch and the Child

Strange sings had been showing up in the flight patterns of crows the entire day.

Ever since Bobby had brought baby Dean to him, Castiel had made an effort to turn his head out of its isolation and at least try to pay a bit of attention to the world of humans. There were no newspapers so far away from the next human town and hardly anyone ever came to visit Castiel. Reading signs, untrained as he was and as unreliable as they were, was the only way beyond greater magic shifts for Castiel to know what might be going on in the world around him. 

Castiel frowned at the crows flying over his garden.

"A baby will be delivered unto you."

That couldn't be right. He was sure that he was not expecting, so he must have gotten the nuances wrong again. Maybe he should turn his attention to some other form of, albeit equally unreliable, divination. Castiel was about to close the window of his tower, when he noticed his magic shift uncomfortably. Something was happening somewhere in Winchester, a magic event that was strong enough for its ripples to reach even him at Rapunzel's tower. He looked out of the window again, trying to discern if anything was out of the ordinary, but the forest was quiet. He shook his head but couldn't quite dismiss it entirely.

By the time evening fell the crows had repeated their announcement three times, and Castiel hadn't figured out where the translation issue lay. But then he felt something stumble into his garden, something with a quick, frightened heartbeat. He put on an overcoat and hurried down the winding staircase. He crossed the dark, empty cottage and stepped into the garden. The first thing he saw was a carriage beyond his gates. He recognized it at once as a royal carriage, the ones they used when they tried to be inconspicuous but every witch and every bandit could still tell it held precious cargo. The next thing he saw was someone stumble through the roses. He knew that it was queen Mary even before he could see her. The woman finally managed to reach his door, breath heaving and eyes wide. It reminded him instantly of that fateful night 10 years ago, just that today she came disguised as a commoner. The ten years had passed her kindly, if it weren’t for the grief that darkened her spirit.

Cas had given up his hope of being invited back to the realm, so he had never expected to see the royal family again. But here Mary was, clearly in distress. She didn't speak, didn't even greet him, but she handed him the bundle, which Cas quickly figured out was a child. His magic instinctively recognized the swirls of demonic in him.

"He has been cursed by the witch Gabriel," Mary started to explain, "demon blood flows through his veins." Castiel didn't reply. "It's the payment he demanded for reviving John."

"That doesn't exactly seem like Gabriel," Castiel said slowly, "it's not like him to punish an innocent child." He looked at Mary, waiting for her to explain.

"No… No, he's punishing me," Mary said, her voice heavy with tears and anger. "He wants me to give up my child because Sam… Sam is…"

"A child with demon blood, yes. Why would you give him up?" Castiel asked, sterner than he had ever been with Mary. He wasn't a fool; he knew that this touched an old wound painfully. But instead of reacting with shame, Mary bristled.

"Sam is dangerous now! Gabriel cursed him and when he turns 18 all of his powers will be unleashed. He called him the boyking of hell! He can destroy all human kingdoms!" she shouted and her loud voice made Sam whimper and then start to cry. Mary's first impulse was to reach out and soothe him, but she withdrew quickly. "I cannot bear to kill my child, but the threat is too great. I have to think of my kingdom now. I have to think of… of John and Dean." Castiel remained silent and if Mary had hoped for sympathy from the witch she was mistaken. "I didn't know where else to turn. The tower should be a good prison for him, where he can't destroy anything important until he fully comes into power."

"Nothing important," Castiel repeated, fully aware of the implications regarding his own person. "And what am I supposed to do with this child?" he demanded to know. Mary got a grip on her emotions, turning firm and composed.

"Be his prison guard, keep him in check until we have trained people to be strong enough to fend against the danger," she said and it sounded very much like an order. Castiel had a sinking feeling he knew what that meant. Only a knight of noble birth would be able to vanquish the kind of evil Sam will become. _Might_ become, he reminded himself. He was just a baby after all. But this didn't bode well for this unfortunate baby or sweet prince Dean.

"I just hope you are still strong enough to hold Sam back," Mary said firmly, then she dropped her eyes on Sam for one last look of shame. "Or… or kill him if everything else fails." Cas flinched back in disgust, appalled by this mother's heartless words. He looked down at the crying child.

"I will never take a life, it violates the course of nature," he vowed, then he turned to look at Mary, who was already slowly retreating. "How can you do this to your own child?" he asked in disgust. "I am glad I must no longer serve you."

Mary flinched at the reprimand, but her face hardened quickly.

"I must do what is right for the kingdom. I'm a queen now," she announced with a firm voice. Then she turned and departed with no further words, and if her heart was heavy to lose her child, she hid it well.

Cas looked at the child, who has stopped squirming and was looking up at him with wet hazel eyes. Castiel heaved a sigh and looked up into the sky when he heard the crows fly above his house again.

"Congratulations!" one called, its eyes gold despite the moonlight. And Cas allowed himself to curse at it.

* * *

Castiel wasn't one to curse the crown, or anything in particular, but he couldn't help but be angry at Mary and John, in a way that he hadn't been when they had imprisoned and then banished him without a trial. Back then he had been sad about the circumstances but he hadn't doubted his decisions once. He had also never turned to the skies to wail about the injustice of it all because at the heart of it all, Castiel was adaptive and he was practical.

Now, Mary had handed over the responsibility of handling a cursed child to Castiel. And what could he possibly do? This child was innocent, just because it had demonic powers didn't mean it was bad. No being was inherently bad; no damning circumstances of birth, no sin of the parents, no curse put upon it could change that. There simply was no way that Castiel would lock this child up, fearful of his powers only to let him be slaughtered once he turned 18, possibly even by his own brother.

He might as well raise Sam properly. No matter what happened.

Decision made, Castiel turned to the only person he could: Rowena. In hindsight, it had been a bit of a hare-brained, desperate measure because Castiel knew nothing about child-rearing and Rowena was the only mother he knew. Granted, she was a horrible mother and responsible for about 90 percent of his personal tragedy, but they had found something akin to mutual respect a good 40 years ago and things had been somewhat civil since then.

Rowena greeted Castiel with shrill laughter that startled the birds out of the trees.

"Oh, gracious me! Found yourself in a bit of a hassle, didn’t you?" Rowena asked, when she let herself into the tower. She dropped her bag on the floor and took a seat at his table. Castiel took a moment to compose himself, closing his eyes with a deep sigh. Sam was resting on his chest, chin hooked over his shoulder, crying. "We haven't seen each other in what, 10 years? And now I show up and you have a baby?"

"It seems that I have found myself faced with parenthood," Castiel agreed and approached the table.

"Ach, give the wee darling here and make your mum a cup of tea, won't you?" Castiel was slightly wary to hand Rowena the squirming infant, which Rowena rewarded with an exasperated eye-roll. "I won't eat him, promise!" Weighing his options, he finally put Sam down into Rowena's arms. "Ooooh, look at you! What a chubby darling! A shame that you haven't inherited my red hair! Don't expect to call me grandma, alright? I'll be Auntie Rowena for you! I'm only 300 years old after all!"

"Rowena," Castiel complained.

"What are you standing there for? You can't expect me to serve myself!" Castiel heaved another sigh, but then he walked over to the stove and put on a kettle. Rowena took the moment to give the boy a little sniff. She pulled back in surprise. "Oh my! How interesting! This is a child of a royal blood line! And he's got Prince of Hell in him as well!" She announced. Sam had stopped crying, staring up at Rowena with wide eyes. "Shame that he's not a first-born, that would have raised his fetching price on the Goblin Market."

"I'm not going to sell him on the Goblin Market," Castiel admonished, then he put a cup of tea down in front of Rowena and lifted the child back out of her arms.

"But the market is tomorrow! Such an opportunity doesn't present itself twice in your life! And maybe you'll even get your own little Rapunzel knight!" She said with a pleased wink. Castiel knew that she was teasing. Rowena knew him enough to not expect Cas to give up the child out of self-interest.

"I know what it's like to be abandoned like that and I don't wish it on any child."

"Cas, always so dramatic!" Rowena called, then she looked down at Sam. "But who is he and how did you come into possession of him? I thought you didn't get up to anything interesting here in this tower."

"I don't. Mary made a deal with Gabriel to revive John and Gabriel's price was that Mary had to choose. Would she risk her kingdom by being a good mother and keeping a cursed child? Or would she get rid of her child to preserve the kingdom from a potential threat once Sam turns 18?"

"That does reek of Gabriel's hand. He's such a trickster," Rowena said, but from her it sounded impressed and admiring. "So," she continued, composing herself. "You have a little cursed princeling on your hands and you decided to raise him." Castiel nodded. "And you don't plan to harness his power and use him to destroy those who wronged you?"

"Absolutely not," Castiel told her sharply. "This is not about me. This is about Sam and what he deserves." Rowena rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"You've always been so boringly self-less, Castiel. You could have been the greatest and most feared man in the realm. But instead you're just so… pitiful."

"Coming from you, that's a compliment," Castiel decided and Rowena answered with a genuine smile.

"So… you're a parent now," she said when Castiel was caressing Sam's cheek with his finger. The cheek was red from crying but Sam had calmed down considerably and was now gazing up at Rowena with clever, curious eyes.

"It seems so," Castiel said and Rowena chuckled.

"I certainly don't want to think of my good for nothing son Fergus," she rolled her eyes and lightly stuck out her tongue in a display of performative hate of her son. (Castiel had long come to know that they showed love in very peculiar, destructive ways, and were blessedly happy about it) Rowena put her china cup to her lips, taking a small sip to conceal her smile. "But I still remember fondly how you came into my possession." She looked up at him. "My little Rapunzel."

"You know I dislike when you call me that. It's Castiel."

"Och," Rowena said, reaching out to pinch Castiel's cheeks. "You're adorable. A first-born son who was given up by his parents for stealing Rapunzel out of my garden. What a waste that had been for your father, who had planned to get some better use out of the exchange of his first born, that much is sure!"

"Most parents don't do that anymore," Castiel argued, which made Rowena bark out a laugh.

"You're so naïve still, Castiel. Parents give up their children for all kinds of reasons. They can just replace them, right? Just look at wee Samuel here. Abandoned by his mother for a little curse!"

"And that was unjust of her."

"Unjust! My, my, Castiel! You advanced to judging humans, I'm so proud of you!" she teased and Castiel stared down at Sam, contrite.

"Oh, there was a time when it was actually a great sacrifice for humans to give up their first born. Humans are so barbaric nowadays, so careless. Giving up a child for a bit of magical corn-salad. Your father could have offered his life instead. Not that I would have taken it, a little baby usually fetches a better price," Rowena mused. Castiel decided to ignore her words and focus their conversation on what he had asked her to come for.

"I don't know what to do with a child," he told her. Rowena looked temporarily surprised, but caught herself quickly.

"Wasn't I the best example of motherhood to you?"

"You have abandoned me in the wild forest in exchange for power. I don't exactly think back to my childhood fondly," Castiel answered, his voice neutral. Rowena laughed. "You're not my mother, you owned me and put a curse on me under which I've lived for decades." Rowena shrugged at that.

"But you were strong. You _are_ strong. With just the little bit of magic that you got in the womb from your mother eating my magic Rapunzel, you survived in the wild forest. For years. And under my impetus curse your powers found a proper outlet. You slaughtered thousands of people on all kinds of human battlefields. Under my guidance you influenced the course of human history more than a puny little king or queen of Winchester could in an entire lifetime."

"Rowena…" Castiel said, feeling sick to think back to those days, to how it had felt to be so used for violence while his entire being screamed for an end to it. But Rowena paid him no heed.

"Maybe that's what you need to do with Sam. Make his powers grow. He could end the reign of humans, wouldn't that be nice?" Castiel shook his head. "Then what else are you going to do? Just keep Sam locked up here until the king and queen send out a knight in shining armor to your tower to kill him?"

"I told you… I will raise him. He's just a baby," Castiel told her firmly. Rowena put down her tea cup with a sharp clink that made Sam whimper slightly and squirm in Castiel's hold. It dislodged Castiel's braid and Sam caught hold of it, pulling hard. Castiel made a sound of protest.

"Well that's got to come off," Rowena said, "or else it gets long enough for you to hang it so your kid can climb up the tower on your hair." That wasn't a pleasant idea. "Since you probably won't change your mind about the Goblin market, I'll trade your hair for things you need for the boy," she offered. Castiel sighed but agreed. "I've got spells to help the milk flow too," she teased and patted Castiel's chest. "Saves money on food. Besides, magic in mother-milk is good for him." Castiel glared at her and she lifted her hands in mock surrender. "Have it your way."

The call of the crows had both of them look towards the only window at this level of the tower.

"I read the crows right after all," Castiel said absent-mindedly. Rowena lifted her eyebrow. "They said a baby would be delivered to me."

"Let me know when the crows talk about a dashing murderous prince coming around again, because that sounds like something I want to see," said. "Maybe you will finally get to see some action."

"I'd prefer not to see any murderous princes," he complained. Rowena laughed, then she got up from her seat.

"I'll fetch the scissors and have some things delivered to you. You'll figure out the rest, yes?" She asked, not leaving Castiel any chance to get a word in.

After she had cut Castiel's hair short and wrapped up the long braid, she was on her way with a final pinch to Sam's cheeks.

And then Castiel was alone, in a lonely tower, totally not prepared for raising a baby.


	5. Departure

18 years pass like a blur if you are a witch but they pass even faster if you're a parent.

He had decided early on that he wanted Sam to grow up as normally as he could, within the limitations Castiel was presented with. The isolating tower had transformed a bit, making it a homely, if not still an odd place. After all, it did sit right on the edge between the world of humans and the world of magic. Cas had ventured out into the realm of magic, but rarely, pretty much only if he needed something for Sam. And children, as Castiel had learned, needed a lot of things. Most of all love and nurturing, but they also needed clothing and food and toys and schooling and entertainment and friends. Sam was a human boy and while Castiel was content to have only Sam, he wasn't selfish enough to assume that he would be enough for him. Their world had always been small, stopping at the stone fence of the garden. But as Sam's mind grew his thoughts would grow beyond that. He would sit in Castiel's lap, looking out of the window facing the world of humans together and would ask questions. What was out there? Could they go there?

Castiel invited both Rowena and Gabriel into his cottage and eventually he dared to guide Sam into the realm of magic, to let him talk to supernatural creatures. But he was never happy, too worried that Sam could accidentally be claimed by the world of magic and Sam wasn't happy when Cas never let him eat anything at the markets. Castiel knew that it was only a matter of time until he couldn't give Sam what he really wanted or needed. It was pulling Sam further into the world, spurred on by tales from Rowena and Gabriel and the books Cas read to him until he was able to read himself. He had such a ravenous desire to learn and to meet new people. To do good in the world. With a focus that had, at times, a menacing edge. Cas understood that not to be demonic, just human.

Cas hadn't violated his banishment, never setting foot into the Kingdom of Winchester, but he had Rowena take the boy to the next village once he turned 12. There he would be able to go to school and make friends, like a normal human boy. The closest town was a two-hour ride by horse away, a lovely journey through the forest, with a brightly lit, wide path for the most part. And some of that was due to Rowena who, despite her general disapproving attitude towards doing good things for no gain, doted on Sam. It was too far away for Sam to make the journey every day, so through Rowena, Cas had found a family he trusted to take care of Sam on school days. That had been hard on Cas, but Rowena assured him that the earlier he learnt to let go, the better.

So while Sam grew up as normal as a child could that lived with a witch, Cas was still banished. But Cas was content, he had Sam after all.

He had observed Sam's development over the years but the powers he manifested weren't particularly evil. They just were. He had premonitions at times, that were as unreliable as reading flower petals (a more recent hobby, since he had become adept enough at reading crows that they had taken to making fun of him). He could also move things with his mind, which had proven to be a challenge to Castiel's parenting.

Presently, the door to the cottage of Rapunzel's tower opened and a young man stepped out. He was tall, with brown hair that reached his shoulders and clever, hazel eyes. There was nothing menacing about him, not a hint of darkness or malice in his countenance or how he treated other people. He was extraordinarily kind, a good kid that was loved by everyone. And he was, as far as the people gossiping with Cas on the Goblin market were concerned, disappointingly _ordinary_. Castiel couldn't be more pleased with him.

Sam was a young man now, bright faced and cheerful on the morning of his 18th birthday. He was dressed to go out of town and shouldered a bag. The gate to the garden, fixed now, was open and Sam's horse was waiting patiently beyond the confines of Castiel's banishment.

"Come on, Cas. It's just a day out with friends. Nothing to worry about," Sam vowed, stepping out of the way so that Castiel could also get out of the door. Castiel still looked pretty much the same as when Sam had been dropped into his lap. Maybe a little bit older. Parenthood would do that to you, even if you were a witch. Maybe especially if you were a witch. "It's the village fest and they even have fireworks!"

"I don't know Sam. It's your birthday…"

"Precisely!" Sam argued, gesticulating with hands, then he sighed when saw Castiel's expression. "Nobody is going to come kill me because of some stupid curse. Nobody even knows where I live!"

"Plenty of people know where you live," Castiel reminded him with a frown.

"No people that want to murder me," Sam retorted and now it was Castiel's turn to huff. Sam smiled disarmingly. "How can anybody from the kingdom know that I'm the fabled demonic boy king? There's nothing demonic about me. No horns, no tail, no black eyes."

"I know, but…" Castiel said, but Sam was quick to interrupt him.

"If you're so worried you could come with me," he said. Instantly, Castiel balked at that, as he had done many times when Sam had asked or even pleaded for Cas to come into Winchester with him. For some reason, Castiel feared retribution if he did, not for his sake but for Sam. Rowena called him superstitious and Sam used to simply pout, or, as he had gotten older, thrown the occasional temper tantrum. This time though Sam had calculated on the fact that Castiel wouldn't break the rules of banishment he had so stubbornly kept even though the wards had never been powerfully crafted and long since worn off to nothing. Because Sam planned on seeing a bit more of the world than just the fireworks.

His best friend Jess' father was a merchant and after months of pleading and assuring him that "Cas said I could come!" he finally had agreed to take him and Jess along with him to see the sea. Maybe even go on a boat to the closer islands. Sam had never been so far away and he considered it a good present to himself, besides he could look at the university there, one of the oldest and best in the whole country. It wasn't kind to Cas, who worried and would most likely be terrified when Sam didn't come home on the night of his 18th birthday, but Sam was young and allowed some foolish ideas.

Cas on his part had an inkling that Sam was planning something. And not just because the tea leaves at the bottom of his morning cup had suspiciously hinted to beware of wayward sons. He knew Sam well enough now and they had had plenty of arguments about Sam dying to see the world out there. Cas was conscious of the dangers out there for a young man like Sam, dangers that might come from regular humans but also from whatever force Mary had built to take care of the presumed threat to her kingdom.

"Alright… you may go," Castiel said, trying to push away the heaviness in his heart. "It's your birthday and I want you to enjoy yourself."

"Thank you! You're the best!" Sam said, overjoyed, wrapping Cas up in a fierce hug which Cas happily returned.

"But please be back in time. I'm going to make you a cake," he said gently. For the fraction of a second, Sam looked slightly uncomfortable, which only strengthened Castiel's premonition that something was going on.

"I'll be back in time for cake. I promise," Sam said eventually, then he shouldered his bag. He smiled, then he went towards the gate. He sent one look back to Cas, who was standing by the door, hands put into the pockets of his overcoat. He watched his son mount the horse, the early morning sun rising over the tree crowns, but not strong enough to warm the morning or chase away the fog that clung to the ground. But Castiel knew that Sam would have a pleasant day, celebrating with his friends and wasn't that what he had worked hard to achieve for all those years? For Sam to be able to lead a normal, happy life? He would do everything he could to make sure Sam got all the happiness he deserved.

* * *

On the other side of the kingdom, young prince Dean knew nothing of Castiel's worries regarding Sam. He had however spent roughly the last 18 years getting bits and pieces of a puzzling story that centered around the fact that something horrible might be happening to the kingdom. Every 2nd of May, the king and queen would retreat for the day and not show their faces to anyone, not even Dean. Dean, who had been too young to remember too many things but old enough to know that he had lost a brother that he loved dearly, was aware that it at least had to be connected to the disappearance of Sam Winchester.

Despite tragedy and secrecy living all around him like ghosts lurking in the empty spaces and silences left in the wake of Sam's disappearance, Dean had never become jaded by it.

Prince Dean was an easy-going man, supremely charming and chivalrous in his own right. He got on with people of all walks of life, never letting himself be kept apart from life simply because he had been born to reign a kingdom. His almost supernatural beauty and his charm drew people to him in spades. Among his friends, who he trusted enough to allow such jokes, it had become an ongoing joke that if he had also been gifted with a beautiful singing voice and maybe a set of boobs, he would have been the perfect fairy tale princess. His beauty and charm also hadn't gone unnoticed by other people in the realm, who would do what they could to win Dean's affections and the chance of marrying into the royal family of Winchester. Not that Dean was particularly interested and his parents were swift to dash anyone's hopes that Dean was going to be married off to the highest bidder. Despite the fact that he was beautiful enough to put the likes of Sleeping Beauty and Snow White to shame, Dean was still a prince of the old guard. He was wild and adventurous to acceptable degrees and disciplined enough to learn everything Knight Anna had to teach him when it got to combat. He wasn't one to seek out battle fields for glory in war (much to the relief of his parents), but he had managed to earn the respect of the generals anyway.

With so many gifts put in his lap, Dean could have become a haughty, self-loving person taking advantages of those who fell for his charms, but thanks to Castiel's careful, well-intentioned gifts and his parents' efforts at raising him right, he turned into a kind and sensitive young man.

And he was on a mission. Just as his brother had schemed to escape the watchful eye of Castiel, to go out and see the world, Dean had done something similar. Ever since he had started to pay very close attention to what people were saying about what had happened all those years ago, he had made his own plans. Dean couldn't quite believe that the threat that was whispered about was Sam and he could definitely not believe that parents as kind-hearted as his own would plan on training their army – and their first-born – to kill him. So he secretly planned for months, well aware that his parents would never allow him to actually set out and look for Sam.

But that was exactly what Dean planned on doing while selling his travels as diplomatic visits to their allies, an endeavor that would give him 3 months to find where his brother was and figure out if he was, in fact, dangerous. And, obviously save him from people who wanted to eliminate the threat.

If he was as clandestine about his plans as he had meant to was up for debate, because his father had pulled him aside just before he departed 3 months ago.

"There's a chance that you might have to kill him," he has said, voice heavy and eyes sad. Dean had been startled by that and found it exceedingly difficult to not blow his cover and demand to know what the hell his father was talking about.

"I'm just visiting allies," Dean finally said after swallowing a couple of times. His dad's silence had weighed heavy on him and haunted him as he set out on his journey.

Now the three months were already up and Sam's 18th birthday was upon him.

"Fuck this," Dean grumbled to himself as he got off his horse. He gave her a good pat to make sure that she understood that his frustrations had nothing to do with her. He had a stable boy take care of her, just within the limits of the town. This was definitely the middle of no-where and Dean wasn't sure if he was even close to finding Sam. His research had guided him all over the country but he had always known that he would most likely have to get close to the border to find him. Or maybe even pass across it. Dean flicked open the small bag at his hip and pulled out a map. He spread it out, studying the marks he had put on it. There were plenty of notes written on it and in Dean's notebook, with a red line tracing his journey. He was a far way from home and by his estimate, the border into the wild land of magic was a mere 2 hours away from the town he was currently in. But he felt that he was on the right path, no matter how unlikely it seemed.

And he had heard a lot of unlikely things over the years. There were enough rumors that people were happy to share with him after some prompting. Some said that Sam had been killed by his parents which was just impossible for Dean to even consider. Others said he had been locked into the dungeons of the castle up north, turning into a malicious beast, howling out his thirst for blood and revenge just for his curses to get lost in the vicious winter storms. But Dean had visited the fort and had investigated under some pretense of wanting to inspect the amenities. Since nobody ever knew how to deny Dean his wishes, that had been easy to do. There were no beasts, there were actually no prisoners at all, because they had long been transferred to a more humane prison.

Other rumors had spoken of a vicious witch that had stolen Sam away, confining him in a tower on blood-soaked land. That one had puzzled Dean, but it had been spoken of so often and with only little variation, that Dean assumed there must have been some truth to it.

All of his research based on the Winchester rumor mill had led him on a path to search for a place called Rapunzel's tower. It was the most likely place for Sam to be imprisoned in. Lucky for Dean, most people knew of Rapunzel's tower and the exiled witch living there. On the downside, most people didn't really know where it was and could only give him the vaguest directions, most just waving their arms west. "Just go on, go on," they had said, and so Dean had, albeit feeling a little stupid in doing so. And now here he was, his three months almost up and no sight of Sam or that cursed tower.

"Hi! You look lost, do you need help?" Dean lowered his map and found a young woman smiling at him. She was tall, with bright blue eyes and golden locks. Most of all she wore a kind smile. Dean returned it right away.

"Yes, I guess so… I need directions to a witch that lives in a tower," he said. The woman opened her mouth in a surprised o and Dean had a feeling she could definitely help him. But his question had also attracted the attention of a young man that was standing not too far away, checking something in a book. He looked over at Dean, a frown etched into his face. Dean felt uneasy all of a sudden to be the focus of this dude's mistrustful look. That hadn't really happen to him yet, so he tried to defuse the situation by sending him a bright smile. The young man's frown deepened and he snapped the book shut. He strolled over to them. Dean didn’t miss how he put his body between the woman and Dean, shielding her.

"What's going on here Jess?"

"Oh, nothing. He's looking for directions. I think he's looking for Cas." Cas! Now that sounded promising.

"Yeah, I heard that part, but what do you want?" They young man asked, not any less suspicious.

"I heard that witches grant favors and I definitely need one," he said, still smiling. The woman, Jess, was quick to jump to Dean's aid.

"Don't mind him. We're happy to help," she said, shoving at Sam's chest, and took Dean's map. "You've got to follow this road out of the village. Ah, oops, it's not on your map, let me just…" Dean handed her his pencil. "Right! Thanks!" She drew in a line, leading through the forest and up to the very edge of Winchester. She made a little heart and wrote CASTIEL over it. "There you go!" Dean sent her a dazzling smile, thanking her. Her companion was still disgruntled, but Dean would pay that no heed. He put away his map.

"Thanks again guys, you've really saved my ass," he said then he looked at the travelling party getting ready behind them. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Yeah, my father takes us to the sea," Jess said before the young man at her side could snap something (probably rude). "And this one is just grumpy because his dad will worry a great deal."

"Aw, yeah I get overprotective dads. But a trip to the sea sounds great! The coast line of Winchester is beautiful, you've got to have seen it at least once!" Dean said and Jess beamed, even the young man's mouth twitched up into a small smile. There, Dean still got it. "It was nice meeting you guys! I must be on my way now! And word of advice?" He looked at the young man. "Send your dad some letters, it won't hurt." The young man shrugged at that, which was good enough for Dean. They exchanged waves and parted ways. Sadly, Dean was out of earshot by the time Jess turned to her friend.

"You didn't have to be so rude to him, Sam," she admonished.

"Come on, it's a stranger asking after Cas. Cas is my family, of course I'm going to be suspicious!" Sam grumbled. Jess huffed at him.

"This is a good thing, Sam. Plenty of people in the village inquire after Cas since they met you. And you know how much Cas likes helping people even if he's got to use you as a mediator." Sam pursed his lips. "It might do Cas well to actually meet someone who's brave, or foolish, enough to approach a witch's house. And you always say so yourself: Cas is lonely, right? Maybe meeting a handsome man is just be what he needs." Sam frowned down at her, suddenly uncomfortable for an entirely different reason.

"Now that's an unsettling thought!" Jess boxed him into the ribs, but gently enough not to make him hunch over.

"Where are your feelings for the romantic! A lonely witch, a handsome man, this is a fairy tale writing itself! Charlie would be all over this if she were here!" Sam has to laugh at that. He really doubted that Cas would be all that impressed by some random knight, or whatever he had been, to show up at his gate, looking for favors.

"It would be nice for Cas to have some company or entertainment… Especially now that I'm leaving," he admitted eventually. Jess showed him a thumbs up and Sam decided to stop worrying. It would be a shame if that cake Cas made for him would go uneaten.


	6. A Prince at the backdoor

The day was coming to a close and the further the sun sunk down, the stronger Castiel's turmoil became. He had pulled his armchair to the window of his tower, arm propped on the window sill, cheek resting in his palm. And he observed. He knew it was futile to see Sam in every shadow the rustling leaves cast on the path leading out into the village. Sam wasn't going to come back, not so soon. And yet…

Some crows had gathered to enjoy the last rays of reddish sunlight on the roof of his tower. Castiel was tracing the childish scribbles Sam had etched into the window sill when he had been 5 years old and almost given Cas a heart attack by climbing up to the window. A croak came from above, startling Castiel out of his mindless staring. He breathed in deeply to get a grip and then he turned his head sharply upwards when he heard the flutter of many wings, indication of the crows' take-off. He leant out of the window in case the crows were saying a well-mannered good-bye. The message displayed however was the following:

"A visitor will knock on your backdoor."

Castiel hated crows at times. They had picked up on the particular brand of Rowena's sexual teasing a while ago and were now using it to throw off his attempt at reading the portents by being jerks. Why exactly the crows were being difficult with him remained a mystery. Yes, of course, interpreting portents was demeaning if you were an actually powerful witch. But Cas needed to have a hobby, especially now that Sam was all grown up and ready to leave the nest. What a thought. Castiel kept his hand on the window sill but leant back in his chair to send a look towards the kitchen space. Sam's cake was sitting there in all of its slightly crooked glory, but Cas had very little hope that Sam would actually show up.

When the light of dusk faded, he got up with a sigh and climbed up the stairs to the attic area of the tower. He went to one of the small windows and opened it to invite in the nice night breeze. In the distance he could see bits and pieces of the firework they set off at the end of the village fest. Castiel leant out of the window to look his fill. He had spent so much time worrying and he wouldn't stop anytime soon, but there was a somewhat serene calm the night brought too. Maybe he was simply worrying too much. He would have liked to keep a close eye on Sam to know if there would be a surge in power. He doubted that Sam would suddenly turn evil, because magic didn't work like that. On top of that Castiel knew Sam to be good. There was no other way to describe it, despite the demonic magic that was a part of him, Castiel had never felt evil in him. No, he didn't worry about that at all. But he didn’t like not knowing what would happen to Sam when he couldn't keep an eye on him. Or know where he was for that matter.

Castiel heaved a sigh and turned away from the window. He was probably out celebrating reaching maturity with his friends. He shouldn't feel abandoned. Sam was a young human and he had friends, other than Cas. Of course Sam would prefer to spend his time with his circle of friends and not with his somewhat overbearing parent. Rowena had long warned him that this would happen anyway, as children were ungrateful. He too had left her side, breaking her mother heart. Which was theatrics of course, since she had tried to trade his life for power and when that hadn’t turned out quite the way she had planned to, she put him under a violent curse to make him her tool. No, Rowena hadn't possessed a shred of maternal love for him. Maybe she liked him, the way one liked a puzzle that was hard to crack, and she clearly liked Sam as well, but the feelings weren't very soft and maternal. Castiel however had put a lot of effort into raising Sam and letting him know that he was loved and cherished even if his parents had given him up. Taking care of a child for 18 years taught him a lot about what he had actually missed while growing up. Actually, what he had missed his entire life.

He was pondering that, somewhere suspended between cool self-reflection and self-pity, when he felt a peculiar tingling at the back of his mind. Someone or something had crossed into the confines of his banishment. Something was stalking through the vegetables, rustling, the magic in the corn salad plants brushing past them, not resisting, merely curious.

A crow fluttered to his window, startling him.

"There's a visitor at your backdoor" the crow informed him. It was Gabriel's messenger again, the most troublesome crow there was, its eyes shining golden in delight. Castiel scoffed at it and shooed the crow away. Castiel wasn't entirely worried, not for his sake, but he was aware of the date. It might as well be an assassin sent by Queen Mary, coming for Sam's life. He quickly but noiselessly descended the stairs. Of course, once he was going down the spiral staircase into the cottage, he remembered that he was unarmed, apart from his magic. An oversight, really, because he knew that he might have to defend Sam from attackers. His magic was strong and it could be deadly, but he had made a vow. He was a good witch. Unsure what to do, he grabbed a frying pan from the table where Sam had left it lying to dry and forgot to put away, just as there was a rattling at the door. Of course, Castiel never locked the door, because who would even think about breaking into Rapunzel's tower? Nobody, that’s who. But now he realized that it might have been unwise, in view of imminent events.

Of course, it was prince Dean who had finally found his way to the witch, after having lost his way as nightfall had surprised him. It was just getting dark too early in this part of the realm. He stole into the cottage through the backdoor, cautious and noiseless. He noticed that he wasn't alone the moment there was movement by his side. He couldn't see, but whatever it was or whoever, it rose up high, spreading its limbs that looked like wings. There was a glow of blue magic, the color of will-o-the-wisps dotting the fringe of Winchester and leading out into the Lost Marshes of Purgatory. Whatever it was, it also rose a round weapon up high. Dean startled of course, but had enough fight experience to keep his wits about himself. He raised his sword, ready to defend his life against whatever this was. He dodged a blow, confused by the weird shape and weight of the attacking weapon as it clunked down against his sword with a dull noise. Dean stumbled back. He needed a light! He had seen the sparse moonlight glint off an object which might have been a turned down oil lamp just on the dresser next to him. If he could just… Right as Dean groped about in the dark, the figure tackled him, sending him crashing down to the ground. Their skirmish tore down the curtain of one of the windows, which sent a ray of moonlight right into Dean's face, blinding him for a second. The attacker stopped moving instantly, drawing back sharply and then scrambling off of Dean to retreat back into the shadow. Dean blinked up into the darkened corner, seeing the bright light of the creature's eyes dim. Whatever the creature was, it somehow gave Dean the impression of a fluffed up bird, trying (and succeeding) to make itself look intimidating and dangerous, especially with the low fire of magic in its eyes. Keeping an eye on the attacker, Dean got up, only turning his head for a moment to find the oil lamp. He turned it up. With a flicker of magic all lamps around the cottage lit up and it became bright as day inside. Dean stared at who had attacked him. It was a man, at least Dean thought it was, because there was the flicker of magic projecting all over him, making his hair look like it floated around his head, ethereal like moon-lit clouds. What had looked like wings was slowly deflating, proving to be nothing but the man's loose sleeping gown. As the magic was put away, almost like it couldn't be seen in the light of day, the man proved to be tall, his skin lightly kissed by the summer sun, with short, dark hair. He was good looking but his face was marred by wariness. Dean himself was not convinced that the danger had passed. He still held up his sword, eyes darting around the room of the cottage. There were no hidden, dark corners in which another danger might lurk. There was an open door in which Dean could see the beginning of a spiral stair case, but other than that, the cottage space was… ordinary. Unassuming in the bright light.

"Are… Is it you, Sam?" he asked. That question took the other man by surprise.

"No…," the man said, his voice deep. "No, I'm not Sam. I'm Cas." Cas lowered the weapon he was still holding abreast and Dean finally noticed what it was; a frying pan.

"Seriously?" he mouthed to himself, no idea what to make of the situation he found himself in, but he forced himself to focus. He studied the guy again. "Cas you said?"

"Yes, Castiel. I'm the witch who lives here," he said and all of a sudden Dean understood.

"The banished witch," he breathed and the Castiel nodded. Dean was surprised, but not quite enough to lower his guard.

"I know of the witch that has been banished to Rapunzel Tower, but you aren't what I expected to find. Like, at all," Dean said, still not approaching. "Not a handsome young dude. More like an old man," he said then he lifted one hand off the hilt of his sword to gesture towards him. "You were banished before I was born after all!" Cas nodded like he didn't see the issue in that. Witches, freaky. But okay, he found the witch and that counted as a success. He put the sword back into its sheath, nodding his head at Castiel. "Dude, what's up with the frying pan?" Castiel lowered his head to look at it wordlessly. Dean lifted his hand, index finger pointed up. He put on his most charming smile. "You know what? Actually, I'm starving. How about some dinner?" Now, that got Cas to frown at him. And the longer the silence stretched, the more strained became Dean's smile. "Odd, that usually works." He pouted, but then he shrugged and carefully patted the sword at his hip. "Do I still need my sword? Are you going to attack?"

"No," the witch answered and he sounded almost angry with Dean. "I've got no interest in harming the Prince of Winchester." Dean was pleasantly surprised to be recognized.

"Oh, good we don't need any introductions then! But I didn't expect less from a witch." Castiel didn't ever grace him with a smile.

"What do you want," he asked flatly, clearly still tense. Of course, if someone broke into Dean's house he wouldn't be perfectly hospitable either.

"I'm looking for someone," Dean told him. "A young man who's allegedly held captive here. Or a monster, I'm not quite sure." Castiel frowned.

"There's neither a captive nor a monster here," he told him.

"Oh, good," Dean said and took that as an invitation to snoop around. He crossed the cottage and was through the door to the staircase before the witch could even open his mouth. The spiral staircase wound up the tower and then opened up into a bigger room, made with arched wooden walls. The space looked rather homey. There were armchairs by a window, a table in the middle with two chairs. A small kitchen area and shelves with books. One door led to a small bathroom and one under a staircase took him into an unlit bedroom with much clutter in it. He next went up the stairs, just when Castiel was coming out into the room, his face pinched. Upstairs he found an attic space, more sparsely decorated, but still comfortable looking. He came back down.

"No dungeon?" he asked and found Castiel standing by the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed, looking annoyed.

"No dungeon," the witch agreed.

"Obviously two people live here," Dean continued his assessment of the tower. He turned to the side, his eyes catching on the cake now. It looked freshly baked. Castiel followed his gaze and when he saw the cake a flicker of emotion (longing, maybe?) passed his face. "Expecting someone?" Dean wondered. "Someone who might be celebrating his 18th birthday today? Someone called Samuel?"

"No," Castiel said and Dean didn't know how one could even mess up such a simple lie, but Cas clearly did. And he followed it up with a sigh so that was pretty damning evidence in Dean's books.

"So Sam does live here," he surmised and Castiel leveled a stare at him, that would be more effective if he wasn't still holding the frying pan.

"What do you want," he asked.

"I just want to find my brother," Dean assured him, both hands lifted disarmingly. "I've heard only rumors all of my life. That he's been stolen by a witch and that on his 18th birthday the curse on him will reach the height of power."

"So? What are you going to do about it? Kill him?" Cas asked, his voice carrying both a challenge and a warning.

"No," Dean told him honestly and somehow that got some of the distrust to lift off Castiel's face and his brows smoothed out into a more neutral, but still disgruntled, expression. "No, I don't want to kill him, but others might." And Castiel's defenses were up again right away. "Look, there are so many rumors about the lost prince Sam. About this place," Dean said lifting his hands. "About the curse. And about a reward." Castiel nodded at that. "But Sam is my brother and it took me damn long to even get this far. I want to find him, that’s all."

Somehow, that seemed to change something in Cas' demeanor. His hostile expression smoothed out and the tension he held his body with disappeared with a deep sigh. He put the frying pan on the table, and kept his eyes on it.

"Sam isn't here," he said. "It's his birthday after all, so he's out in town with his friends, celebrating. He was supposed to be back this evening…"

"So you worry about him?" Dean asked, unsure of what the relationship between Sam and Castiel was, but trying to sniff it out. Castiel nodded and Dean didn't doubt that Castiel cared about him, but as to why and in what capacity still evaded him. "That seems reasonable even though I'm sure he's just fine. He's young and sometimes people forget the time when they're partying." Castiel frowned at that, clearly displeased. "Why not go check together, see if we can find him?" The mistrust was clear on Castiel's face.

"Hey, if you doubt me, why not pack your frying pan? Might come in handy," he joked. Castiel rolled his eyes at him.

"I can't leave," he said. "I'm banished."

"So what?" Dean asked to which he got an incredulous stare. "It was my mother who banished you, right? By law I can give you permission to come into the country for a limited time, if you are accompanied. And I need your help to find Sam, alright? So, banishment partially lifted?" Castiel didn't seem convinced at all, but eventually his worry for Sam must have won out over keeping to the terms of his banishment. And what kind of witch did that? Willingly stick to human made rules when he could probably just disregard them?

"Great! Then that's a deal!" Dean decided, then he stretched, feeling every muscle in his body hurt now that the adrenaline had worn off a bit. "Is there an inn nearby? I've been on a horse for too long."

"All the inns here are across the borders," Castiel told Dean what he had suspected. "If you want to try your luck by all means," he offered and gestured towards the general direction of the wild forest where a human like Dean would probably be snatched up within two minutes of setting foot on it.

"Eh, I think I'll pass," Dean decided and Castiel looked somewhat smug about it.

"You can take Sam's room then. I suppose he won't be needing it today." Dean nodded at that. "Have a wash, I will make the bed and then prepare you dinner."

"Thanks," Dean said and now he was back on somewhat familiar ground. People were always willing to accommodate Dean and he had never turned down an offer like that. Dean didn't let himself get too excited while he washed in the small bathroom, magic filling up the tub with warm, fragrant water. He was so close to reaching Sam, something he had only dreamed of for months, no, years! And judging from the way Castiel talked about Sam, there was nothing monstrous about him. Of course, maybe he shouldn't trust a witch's judgment of character, but he had a good feeling. A very good feeling indeed. But with that also came a very little spark of doubt. Because, if Sam was a good kid, why was he locked away with a witch? Why did his parents act like Sam was dead? And what about the ominous words his father had seen him off with? Something wasn't quite right, but this wasn't the time to worry about it.

Dean got dressed and when he joined Castiel, there was a shepherd's pie, some wine and a slice of the cake waiting for him. Dean sat down and eyed the cake, then Castiel.

"Sam's not going to eat it anyway," was all Castiel said. Dean let it be and thanked him for the meal before tucking in. It was tasty and fulfilling after a hard couple of days looking for Sam so close to the edge of civilization. While Cas was observing Dean, he wasn't doing so in a menacing way.

"Thanks for the meal," Dean said and put all his plates into the sink. "Don't get up, I can wash up after myself," Dean assured Castiel when he made to rise from the chair. "Least I can do to replay you for your hospitality."

"Very well," was all Castiel said until Dean retreated to bed and got a "good-night" in return. It looked like Castiel was settling down to spend the night in the armchair. Dean didn't want to overthink it and closed the door behind himself.

He was in Sam's room now. This was his long lost younger brother's room. Dean had nothing to remember Sam by as his parents had removed almost everything leaving Sam's room as nothing but a shrine to his memory, something that Dean didn’t dare to touch, like it was a picture in a museum. But he remembered the weight of him in his arms, the way his heart expanded when Sam smiled at him, how pink his cheeks were and how soft his hair. And he remembered his scent.

And this room was clearly Sam's. Dean shouldn't feel it, but he recognized that scent. He looked around. It was a regular room, slightly less disorderly now that Castiel had prepared it for Dean. All the things you expected to find in a commoner's bedroom were there. Then there was a desk, laden with books and pieces of paper and pencils. And the shelves were almost bending under the weight of books and knick-knacks that had accumulated over the years. There was no indication that Sam was born a prince, nor that there was anything evil about him. Juxtaposed to the books that hinted at a certain maturity, were the toys placed in all kind of locations. Everything looked hand-made. Dean grabbed one of the books that had a little sign on its spine, probably a book borrowed from the library. It was a book on law, pretty dry, but what was interesting to Dean was that in the little sleeve fixed to the inside of the cover, was a library card. Dean pulled it out and looked at it.

"Sam Novak"

"Novak," Dean muttered to himself. He was pretty sure that this was the last name of the witch. Pensive, Dean put it back down and looked around some more. There were some pictures hung on the wall, mostly it looked like kid's drawings. The place was old-fashioned, so Dean wasn't surprised to find no photography anywhere, least of all electric light. But there was a painting hung next to Sam's bed. It showed Castiel looking solemn, holding a young child. Even though it was almost 18 years ago, Dean remembered how Sam looked. He traced the little oil painted face with his fingers, almost reverently.

Dean tucked away his thoughts for later, now he really needed to get a good night's rest. When he lay down and turned off the oil lamp, he was surprised by little lights blinking into existence over his head. Within moments the entire ceiling of the room was illuminated by hundreds if not thousands of dots. Awed, Dean watched the starry sky, the lights blinking softly, names of constellations glimmering. Dean couldn't help it, he felt good here. Right, sheltered. He fell asleep easily.


	7. On the long road

Over night, Castiel had plenty of time to think, but by the time Dean was ready to go, Castiel was still in the middle of a crisis. He had nothing packed at all, dressed in his robes and an apron he had used while preparing bread. It still was flour stained. He blinked out into the morning sun owlishly. Prince Dean was saddling his horse but when he noticed Castiel he tsked.

"You look more like a mother whose cooking got interrupted by the need to reprimand unruly children than a witch," Dean told him, marching up the path to the cottage door. "Come on," he said, not unfriendly. "Lose the apron and the gown. For God's sake, what did you even wear at court?"

"Witch's robes mostly," Castiel replied simply. "People had to know who and what I was right away, as was the wish of the court I served."

"Yeah, no. You want to be at least somewhat inconspicuous," Dean told him, shaking his head. "Like me. I don't look like a prince, right?" Castiel took that moment to study Dean. His clothes were of a good quality, but used and patched up in some places. His boots were practical and scruffed. He was still beautiful to look at, but he appeared to be a knight, not a prince. "Do you have anything else to wear?"

"I still have old clothes here somewhere that Sam grew out of," Castiel offered and Dean nodded.

"Please change into that," he asked, then he went back to his horse. Castiel hesitated on the porch for a moment, then he turned around to get changed. Once Castiel stepped to the gate to present himself to Prince Dean, he wore dark pants and a white shirt. A beige overcoat thrown over it to protect him from the elements. Normal clothes, a bit scruffy, but fine to wear. Dean thought so too and gave him a thumbs up.

"Good, let's go!" he said but Cas stopped at the border of his property. He hadn't stepped over the imaginary line in almost thirty years. Dean observed him, his expression surprisingly soft.

"It's fine," he assured him. "Remember, you have a temporary, conditional leave to come into the country to show me the way to Sam."

"I don't want to show you the way to Sam," Castiel reminded him, somewhat contrite. "I just want to know that Sam's alright. He hasn't been back and I'm worried." Castiel breathed in deeply. This was it. He had to cross. A crow called right when Cas was about to go past the banishment line. Cas looked up, finding the crow sitting on the he very top of the tower. It called once again. That was not a good omen. But this wasn't about him. It was about Sam, so whatever might happen, he had to do it. He stepped over the boundary and walked up to Dean. Dean sent him an encouraging smile.

"Do you have a horse?" he wanted to know.

"No, Sam took it to town," he explained, then he pointed towards the side of the cottage. "I have a cart though." Dean craned his head to spot the old cart. "It was the one they used to drag me out here." Dean frowned at that, but it was common for traitors that get banished.

"Better than driving you to a pyre, right?" he wondered with a chuckle, but it was rather dark and Castiel didn't feel like laughing either. Castiel didn't need any help to pull the bulky thing to the horse or attaching it. He hopped on the wagon once they were settled. And off they went.

"Back in Winchester for the first time in years. How's it feel?" Dean asked clearly in high spirits and happy to make conversations. Castiel would have preferred to just be left alone with his thoughts but he wouldn't deny the prince a conversation.

"Unpleasant," he said and Dean laughed. "I was always reluctant to let Sam go to the town. It's a long journey to make for a child, but I used to accompany him with substitutes, so I do know the way."

"Substitutes?" Dean wondered, looking over his shoulder.

"Animals that I project my mind into to accompany Sam. Usually birds or cats, as they don't draw much attention. But when Sam was still small, a lynx would do. Not many people are here, not even bandits."

"Yeah, I guess so. The borderlands are dangerous," Dean agreed.

"Not for witches, not for Sam," Castiel told him. "But I still worry." Dean remained silent at that, pensive.

* * *

They reached the town by early afternoon. It was slow going with the cart, but Dean wasn't in any particular hurry, now that he was so close to his goal. After dismounting, they went into the first inn Dean spotted, for some refreshments and trying his luck at reconnaissance.

Luck tended to be on Dean's side and it didn't take long for a young woman with bright red hair to plunk down her glass on their table, startling both of them.

"No way! No way!! Cas is that you?!" she called excitedly.

"Charlie," Castiel said once he recognized her and smiled at her, the first smile Dean saw. He was too absorbed by it to notice that Charlie was swatting at his shoulder.

"Make some space here," the young woman said and Dean scooted over a seat, so that Charlie could sit down opposite Cas. "Wow! Wow it really is you! Is the banishment lifted?!"

"No," Castiel said.

"Temporarily," Dean chimed in at the same time. Charlie looked from Dean to Cas and back to Dean, her eyebrows disappearing under her bangs. Dean smiled at her and reached out his hand. "Hey, I'm Dean. I'm an envoy from Winchester court. I'm here to investigate the banishment." From the little information he could get out Castiel, he found out that nobody in town was aware of who Sam was. They only knew him as the boy Castiel had taken in and treated like his son. It hadn't really come as a surprise to Dean that Castiel had raised Sam, considering what he had seen, but it was still at odds with what he had heard from his parents. But that was a concern for a later date. Now he had someone who could surely give him information of any kind.

"I'm also looking for Sam," he continued, but before he could say more, Cas jumped in.

"Sam was supposed to be home, but he never made it for his birthday, I'm worried." Charlie hesitated for a moment.

"I don't know where he is. We had a nice afternoon together yesterday but I had to leave early. He probably hung out with Jess, forgot the time and decided to crash at her place," she said, a little bit too quickly and wooden for it to be totally convincing. Castiel opened his mouth, but Dean lifted his hand to stop him. Then he turned to Charlie, turning up the charm.

"I'd really appreciate any help. Not only would you be helping the court of Winchester, but also this worried parent." Charlie bit her lips but eventually she heaved a sigh.

"Fine. But Sam didn't tell me much, because he knows that I can't keep my mouth shut if you did come, Cas! But it's not like Sam thought that you would actually come!" The corners of Castiel's mouth turned down, so Charlie pulled a letter out of her bag. "I was supposed to deliver a letter telling you not to worry. He's just travelling." While Cas read the short letter, Dean was overcome with a suspicion. The woman called Jess, the travelling, the worried father… It wasn't hard to put two and two together. It was decidedly harder not to slap his palm against his forehead. [

"Was he by any chance going to travel with Jess' father to go see the coastline?" Dean wondered. Charlie was surprised for a moment, but quickly started to nod.

"Yeah, I guess so. Jess' dad is a merchant and he makes the long journey to the harbor for shipment every couple of months. I think Sam wanted to check out the academy." She looked at Cas apologetically. "It's been Sam's dream for long and you weren't going to take him, so…"

"It's alright, Charlie. You don't have to feel bad…" Castiel told her gently. Meanwhile, Dean's mind was racing. That young, grouchy man had been Sam? Dean actually spoke to Sam? Charlie rummaged through her bag again and then Dean was looking at a photograph of Sam, done by a studio.

"I got it developed recently and wanted to give it to you, Cas. Since you don't have the chance to take Sam to get his portrait taken." Castiel took it, his expression grateful. But Dean had seen it long enough to be sure. It totally was the dude. Damn. And now he's on route to the sea?

"They have a day's headstart! Come on, Cas, we must catch up!" Dean quickly drank the rest of his beer, then he got up. "Come on!" Castiel was clearly torn, but in the end he got up too.

"Thank you Charlie, you've been very kind," he said and Charlie smiled sheepishly. "I think it's part of parenting to follow Sam to scold him for not telling me about his plans. Even if he's an adult now."

"I suppose so. Poor Sam though," Charlie said but the way she laughed didn't really sell the idea that she felt sorry for her friend. "And now that you can move around in the kingdom again, you might as well go join Sam," Charlie suggested. "He always wanted to go see the sea with you. I'm sure he'd be happy!" That brought another small, almost wistful smile to Castiel's face. Dean found himself liking that small smile a lot.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Family trip to the beach," Dean said with a laugh. Charlie said her good-byes and wished them well on their journey. Then they were on their way.

* * *

The prince and the exiled witch travelled on the merchant route that connected all of Winchester's major towns. That meant it was well-maintained, always in the open as to dissuade bandits from any attack. It was a pleasant journey to be on and Dean had immensely enjoyed travelling on this road and getting into occasional conversations with other travelers or patrolling guard members. But that was when he had been travelling lightly, just him and Impala on the open road.

The cart that Castiel was seated on bumped awkwardly across any unevenness in the pavement and sometimes it seemed to catch on nothing at all just to spite them. While Dean had hoped to have a decent chance at catching up to a slow travelling merchant's caravan, the cart seemed to have it in its mind to out-slow them.

While Castiel did fret in the cart, worried about Sam, Dean took any situation how it came, making the best of it.

"How is life at the edge of Winchester?" Dean asked charmingly. "Probably has its challenges if you have kids," Dean asked. He was trying his best to make conversation with Castiel, partially to distract the man from his worries and partially to fill the silence and the awkward rattling of the cart.

"I've always lived at the border. But it wasn't my choice to be confined to the tower nor to raise a child in such conditions," Castiel answered, his voice flat and vaguely disapproving. Dean knew this wasn't his fault and he was sure Cas didn't put any blame on him specifically. He probably was just being touchy in general.

"And you never thought to… you know, break out of exile? You must have been able to."

"And do what? Take Sam into the Wild Forest? No, he was safe in Winchester. He was safe in the tower too, but a witch can sustain life in isolation. A child should not be asked to do the same," Castiel told him calmly. Dean nodded at that. He was glad that Castiel was actually answering his questions because there were so many things he wanted to know. About Sam. About… why things happened the way they did. Dean had tried to ask questions but had only met uncomfortable reactions from his parents that had caused him to shy away from asking again. But here was Cas, who had spent the last 18 years with Sam. Dean couldn’t be more excited to get to learn about who his baby brother had become.

"How did you come to raise Sam anyway?" Dean wondered and looked over his shoulder. He startled slightly as he found Castiel sitting right at the edge of the cart, where it was attached to Impala's harness. He was holding on to the rusty remainders of the cage that had once been on it, staring at Dean with his mysterious blue eyes. Dean couldn't help but hold his gaze, mesmerized.

"What else should I have done when I was handled the bundle? I couldn't have abandoned him or carelessly locked him up," he said, sounding surprisingly bitter just talking about the idea. All of a sudden that uncomfortable, dark thought was pushing itself back to the front of Dean's mind, his stomach slowly knotting up. But he had to know.

"I heard rumors… That you stole the child to exchange him for magic powers," he started. Castiel scoffed in disgust. "But… some people also whispered that…" He swallowed and licked his lips nervously. "That my Mom had taken him to you." There was silence for a while and Dean watched Castiel's stern expression melt into something that looked uncomfortably close to pity.

"When Sam was only half a year old, a witch fed Sam demon blood. It was a curse given in exchange for a favor Mary had asked of the witch ten years prior," he explained. "Your mother was left with the choice of how to deal with the challenge the witch had presented her with."

"Challenge?" Dean wondered uneasily.

"Yes… What would she do with a cursed child that might one day destroy a kingdom? Mary didn't know what do with a child that was now _tarnished_." It was clear to Dean how deeply upset Castiel was by what had transpired and he understood it. He still remembered what it was like back in those days. Holding a crying Sam and feeding him because nobody else would even approach him. The looks on his parents' face, the haunted gazes his mother threw over her shoulder whenever she felt the eyes of a nobleman or servant catch sight of the baby. And then Sam had been gone. Dean had never understood this dark and hazy memory that had crouched upon his memory of Sam like a nightmare. But, despite all that, Dean knew his parents. And he had to believe that whatever it was that they did or didn't do was for the greater good.

"It was an impossible challenge. To choose between kingdom or a child," Dean started, turning his body back to the front, unable to meet Castiel's eyes or have him see the flicker of doubt cross his face. "Most queens would make the tough choice."

"There was no tough choice," Castiel retorted. "To abandon Sam like that… Giving him up to a witch she had banished to an unhospitable place of shadows, hoping that he would just disappear?"

"No, Cas, I'm sure that's not-"

"She abandoned her own flesh and blood, doing exactly what would give darkness a way into his heart," Castiel spoke over him, not even raising his voice but Dean was instantly reduced to silence. "Sam deserved a chance. He was just a child. The only thing I could do was try to raise him well."

"Yeah…," Dean said after silence stretched between them. "I'm sure you did a good job."

"I'm not so sure," Castiel answered, his voice coming out wistful. "Or Sam wouldn't have run away now…" Dean didn't know what to tell him, so he remained silent as they travelled on, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts.

* * *

For the last couple of hours clouds had gathered in the sky, which slowly transformed into a dark canopy overhead. It was cold and rain started to fall heavily, long before they were anywhere close to the next proper stop on the merchant route.

"There's a small village not too far from here if you take the narrow path branching off," Castiel said, hood of his overcoat pulled over his head. Dean squinted at the path forking off some 100 meters away with little enthusiasm. But the rain was uncomfortable and starting to get everywhere and Impala was losing patience as well. So he guided them off the proper street into far more uneven terrain. For a while they were making good progress, but then the cart's rattling got even louder and they got almost stuck in mud and then in holes. Until eventually there was a loud crash that tugged at the horse and jolted Dean. He turned around in his saddle and found Castiel had rolled off into a puddle, while the cart had broken up into parts, one wheel taking its leave, puttering by the frowning witch. Castiel got up, dripping wet and muddy. But he seemed to bear it with some dignity. But Dean just groaned.

"Great. The kingdom couldn't have spared a better-quality cart for banishments?" he complained, half-joking. That got Castiel to raise his eyebrow at him. "What are we going to do? There's no way anyone will come out to fix it in this weather." Castiel lifted his hand and then the cart put itself together again before Dean's eyes. The escaped wheel slowly rolled back and then jumped into place with a clack. Castiel kept eye contact with Dean as he climbed onto the fixed cart and Dean was sure there was a hint of a smug smirk on his lips.

"Show off," Dean said with a laugh, then he turned around and urged Impala on. Dean had never seen real magic in action before, despite the fact that there had been magic in the kingdom for hundreds of years before his birth.

They made it to the small village without further disruptions. They looked for the inn, finding it to be a small house with flickering lights in its windows. It looked gloomy and a shiver went through Dean that he couldn't quite explain to himself. But it would do. Dean left Castiel to take care of the cart and the horse, while he waited on the porch, dripping wet but at least not getting any wetter apart from the gusts of wind that blew a spray of drizzle into his face. He really needed a bath but he wasn't sure if a small village inn could fix him one at this time of the night.

Once Castiel was back, Dean went inside, a little bell tingling to announce their arrival. They were in an open space, the reception tucked into a corner. It was dark apart from a small oil lamp standing on the reception counter. Somehow there was a tug at Dean's heart as he looked around the place, but he couldn't quite say why. He was about to ask Castiel what he thought when a woman poked her head out of a door. She spotted them.

"Oh, sorry. I'll be with you right away, gentlemen," she said kindly. Dean watched her lift her apron to her face, wiping it. Then she walked up to them and shaking both of their hands with a genuine but tired smile. "Welcome."

"Good evening. We were surprised by the storm. Do you have lodgings for us?" The woman didn't go check her book to make sure.

"I'm deeply sorry, but we only have one bed to spare right now," she said apologetically. "We don't have many guests right now, but relatives are over." She looked at Dean with a regretful expression. "But you are welcome to stay, if you are able to share."

"We would be very obliged, thank you madam," Dean told her gently and she ducked her head, smiling. She went behind the counter and fetched the key. Dean saw her wipe her eyes again, wondering just what it was that weighed on her heart. "I'll take you to your room."

Dean was surprised that Cas hadn't said anything at all so far, but wordlessly followed the woman up two flights of stairs and down a corridor. She unlocked the room and flicked on the light, then she stepped back out.

"I'll draw you a bath and make you something to eat. I'm sure you could use some tea," she said, addressed to Dean, then she nodded at Castiel and left after Dean thanked her.

Dean looked into the room, finding it small but inviting. There was only a small bed put against the wall, hardly wide enough to fit two unless they were all tangled up.

"Well, that's an invitation to cuddle," he joked and looked over at Castiel. Dean wasn't particularly shy and there was no denying that the witch was the kind of guy he wouldn't mind sharing a bed with. At least when he didn't look like he had just climbed out of a bog. Somehow though, Dean waggling his eyebrows at Cas got the man all tensed up and flustered. Not uncommon either for Dean, he was aware of the pull he had on people thanks to his looks and charm. But he was obviously going to back up if Cas was uncomfortable. A bit of a shame, really.

"I don't need to sleep," Castiel assured him after a bout of silence. "I will stand vigil." Now that took Dean by surprise and he crossed his arms over his chest, looking at him inquisitively. "You are still the heir to the throne. I will do anything I can to protect you."

"Oh… oh, okay?" Dean stuttered, weirdly touched by those words for reasons he couldn't quite decipher yet.

"I will help the innkeeper with the preparations for the food and the bath. You should change into dry clothes," Castiel said. Dean was about to tell him he should do the same, but Cas was already out of the door.

What a weird fellow.

Dean did what Castiel asked of him, then sat down at the small table when Castiel brought him stew and tea.

"The water is ready for you whenever you are," he said.

"Cas, drop the servant act, will you?" Dean said with a laugh. "You're not here as my valet, okay?"

"I… I'm not," Castiel answered, clearly puzzled. "I just want to make sure you're alright." Dean studied the witch, how he hovered, making sure Dean was dry and eating properly.

"Oh," he said after all, realization drawing. "You don't have to mother me either. I'm a grown man." Castiel heaved a sigh.

"You sound just like Sam. But Sam's still very much a child at times," he said, then he stepped away from the table to stand by the door instead, hands clasped behind his back.

"Yeah, but he's 18. I'm almost 22," Dean teased with a wink. "Ancient in comparison to the guy whose diapers you probably changed." That got a smile to Castiel's face and tension to leave his shoulders.

"Right," he said, his smile scrunching up his nose adorable. "I will leave you to it then."

"Yupp. See you later!" Dean called after Cas, the door shutting with a soft click. He was still smiling for a while as he ate his soup, shaking his head. He really liked getting to know Cas. Sure, he was pretty surly and taciturn and somewhere there was a temper hidden underneath his calm exterior that flashed up every now and again. He seemed to be a good person and genuinely cared for Sam. How in the world, did this match with the stories he had heard? And with the banishment?

Dean heaved a sigh and grabbed his nightclothes out of his travelling trunk, then stepped out of the room. Castiel was indeed stationed there, back against the wall and looking out of the window on the opposite wall. At least he was dry now. Probably due to magic, seeing as he hadn't changed his clothes. Castiel merely nodded at him and Dean went to the bathroom. It was nice and steamy, the bath water warm and smelling of lavender. He got into it with a happy sigh, deciding to just soak for a while. Washing could wait.

Calm and comfortable as he was, he let his thoughts roam freely. He thought about the years of wondering, the countless hours of preparing, followed by the months of travelling. And now he was so close. He had found the witch who had raised Sam. He thought back to the short meeting with his brother and how his hopes of finally meeting him for real after almost 18 years of missing him would soon be fulfilled. He doubted that Sam would still remember Dean as it had been so long, but he was sure they could strike up a quick friendship and make up for the lost years.

He didn't want to think about the curse too much, or his father's ominous words. Thinking about Cas was safer and much more agreeable. To a degree. Dean had heard so many things about the banished witch, had read more into the void that had been left behind in the spaces the court witch had once inhabited. His name was no where to be found anymore, scratched out of any documents apart from the one of his banishment. His mother got upset when Dean asked about him and what he had done and his father shrouded himself in silence.

"He is responsible for the death of your grandfather," Mary had said and the documents of his banishment read "Castiel Novak, witch, is being exiled as a traitor to the crown". The worst one could be banished for. Actually, not many people who were convicted of the crime could hope for banishment. Usually it meant death. But witches couldn't be killed all that easily.

Once Dean had asked Bobby, because Bobby knew a great deal about a great many of things and he was less reserved with answers. "Your ma made a demand on the witch that he couldn't grant."

Dean frowned. What was the truth? He sat up and washed himself because he could just ask. His mother might not give him answers, but Castiel didn’t seem to have any such reservations if he felt like answering questions. Dean dressed and rubbed his hair dry, then he walked back to his room. Surprisingly, Cas wasn't there. Dean snorted.

"So much for standing vigil…" Dean put his things back in the room and then walked through the guest house, in search of the witch. When he got down the stairs he heard muffled voices and the sound of crying. A girl was walking towards him, carrying linen.

"Excuse me, what's going on?" he asked. The servant girl looked up, her face wet with tear tracks too.

"The inn keepers' child is very sick. The whole family came together to keep vigil as she passes," she said, keeping her voice low. "The poor thing…" Dean nodded, putting his hand on the girls' shoulder to give it an encouraging squeeze.

"Thank you… Let me not keep you," he said and she nodded. Dean walked on, steering towards an open door at the end of the hall, where dimmed light spilled out. Maybe because he was a prince, but most likely because of the unique blessings he had received, nobody ever appeared to feel Dean was out of place or unwelcome to share people's joy and pain. So he slipped into the room, nodding at everyone who noticed him. Dean wasn't surprised to find Castiel next to the sickbed. A little girl was lying in bed, clearly very sick and not conscious. Castiel was talking to her and the family in a low voice. The parents were opposite him, tearful but nodding at something Castiel said. Castiel sent them a smile, then he put his hand on the girl's forehead. For a moment Dean feared that the girl had perished and he was about to send her off, but then a golden glow engulfed his hand and spread all over the girls' face. Nobody in the room spoke as they watched in rapture as the labored breathing cleared and her pale skin gained back its color. Castiel removed his hand, then checked the girl over silently before he looked back at the parents. Now his voice was louder so the room could hear too:

"She is still weak, but not on death's door anymore," he announced and the mother started crying, hiding her face in her apron again. The relief was palpable in the room to Dean. "You have to feed her well. Remember that the crown will send you all you need if you find yourself short of anything. Get her sun light and air and warm baths." Castiel wiped the hair out of the girl's face. "She should recover well."

Having seen enough, Dean snuck back out of the room without a word, to bed. He felt immensely touched to having been allowed to witness this. And he went to sleep with a warm feeling in his chest and maybe even a bit of love for the witch whose kindness he had witnessed.


	8. The Fire

The next morning Cas wasn't at his post either, but Dean wasn't surprised or even disgruntled. He found the witch down in the breakfast room, carrying the previously ailing child on his hip.

"Good morning, Sir!" the inn keeper greeted with a levity Dean couldn't have imagined her expressing on the night before.

"Good morning, I see my friend here has turned his back on me for someone else's affection," he joked and sat down at a table. The innkeeper laughed, bringing Dean a heavy plate with breakfast and some omelets following shortly. Castiel looked a tiny bit awkward carrying the kid.

"It's been a while for me," he explained when Dean laughed about him constantly adjusting his grip on the lively child.

"Yes? How many children do you have?"

"Just the one," Castiel admitted.

"How old?" the inn keeper's husband asked, coming out of the kitchen with even more steaming, delicious food. Dean has no idea how he was supposed to eat all that, hoping that Cas would join him.

"He just turned 18," Cas answered, "I'm on my way to join him. He always wanted to see the sea and look at the academy… But I wasn't allowed to leave… He took matters into his own hands and left…" Cas put down the child, which stole a roll off Dean's plate and then ran to her father, giggling wildly. Dean smiled at her, then he motioned for Cas to sit down. There were plenty of people in the room now, all eager to spoil the both of them with food, definitely more food than either of them could eat.

"Yes, we know… We know who you are, Castiel," the inn keeper said and Cas ducked his head. "I remember you and I know the tales. People still talk about you and your travels." There was a smile on her lips even though Cas' face was regretful. "You had longer hair then."

"I'm sorry that I couldn't be here, to help more…," Castiel told them all.

"You've done enough, Rapunzel," an old lady spoke up and Dean looked at her in surprise. "You've done enough good to last the kingdom for decades."

"So you've met before?" Dean asked and a bit of a hush settled on the room, almost as if they had forgotten about Dean. But he smiled at the lady encouragingly and she seemed to overcome her hesitation.

"Years and years ago… During the war, when our village was close to being destroyed because the kingdom didn't have enough troops to hold back all demonic armies and small villages of less strategic importance were left to fend for themselves." Dean's heart sunk at that, knowing that the crown had failed the people of the village. He opened his mouth to apologize but the old lady waved him off. "Don't you worry about the hard choices of generations before you. It was war and there was nothing else the king's army could have done," she said and Dean nodded, subdued. "We knew nobody would come as the demonic banners approached. But then," the old lady stopped, breathing in deeply, and looked at Castiel. "_He_ came. The witch knight, every part of him covered in black armor, gleaming with the blood of foes he vanquished. You know the tales," she said. "But no matter how dreadful the witch knight looked, he faced the entire army of demons and destroyed them all. Not uttering a single word or sound. He left as quietly as he came. And our village still stands." The old lady looked at Dean, her light blue eyes searching him. "So you keep a good eye on him, dear knight."

"I will," Dean promised.

"Oh, enough with the gloomy mood, let the two eat! Eat!" The inn keeper's husband said, clapping his hands. "All of you. It's a day for celebration!"

"Thank you, but we must be on our way shortly," Castiel said before Dean had to try to get them ready to depart. The people helped them pack food for their journey and wished them all the best. They wanted to refuse Dean paying for the room and the service, but eventually relented when he offered that the money would benefit the girl and that it had been a privilege to stay with them and witness true magic.

"That was really touching, Cas," Dean said when they were back on track, taking the small road that would eventually lead them back onto the merchant's route. "You healing that little kid… You didn't ask for anything in return."

"No… there's no need. It's atonement," Castiel said which had Dean look at him with a puzzled frown. But Castiel was not forthcoming with an explanation so Dean let him be. They were at the very outskirts of town, where small farms dotted the landscape, when they were stopped by a waving man running towards the cart. Dean stopped it, alarmed at once, but he saw the excited smile on the man's face.

"I heard you were coming this way, Castiel! What a lucky day," he said. Castiel shot Dean a look, but Dean dismounted. He was not in enough of a hurry to reach Sam to deny this man whatever it was he wanted. "My wife. She just gave birth three days ago. Our first born. Would you bless her?"

That took Dean by surprise.

"Is it wise to let a supernatural creature come in contact with a first-born? A witch even?" Dean wondered, though he didn't mean it to offend, it was genuine curiosity. "Don't most witches take every chance they get to snatch up firstborns?" The father laughed, then invited Dean and Cas into his house. The young mother was sitting in a rocking chair, her infant cradled in her arms. "Hear that man, Leila. He said it would be unwise to let a witch near a first-born!" Dean shrugged with a goofy smile, not upset at all that both laughed at his assumptions. Castiel for his part, stayed silent.

"You must be very court near to think that," the young woman said.

"Yeah, you could say that," Dean answered with a grin. The young woman smiled up at him and then at Castiel, inviting him to explain. Clearly, Castiel wasn't really into giving Dean a lesson in magic, but he heaved a sigh and turned to Dean.

"First-born children are often bartered off by parents to pay for dealings with witches. Fairies also like first-borns to serve in their courts. They have power, for the blood line of the father. Symbolic, mostly. The heir to a family to be given away, that’s a steep payment. For most." Dean nodded in understanding. "But I'm not making any deals with people. A blessing is a gift to celebrate new life. I used to travel when I was still the witch of the realm, blessing new-born children in the name of the crown."

"Oh, I see," Dean said, taking it all in with awe. There were so many things he didn't know about his own kingdom's magic culture.

"May I?" Cas asked and the mother removed the child from its blankets. Dean watched Cas put his hand on the baby's forehead. He closed his eyes, as did the parents. There was a little light glowing on the baby's shoulder and then a protective rune was there, no bigger than a mole.

Dean looked at in surprise. He too had a mark on his shoulder, which his parents had told him was a blessing by fairies. It had a striking resemblance to the one on the baby's shoulder though. He decided not to mention it though, leaving the family to thank Castiel and for Cas to wish them all the best. Then they were back on their way.

"We're pretty delayed. Sam must already be close to the coast even though the caravan must move slower than we do," Dean mused.

"We'll catch up," Castiel said, clearly in a good mood. Dean looked at him and found Cas smiling back at him, pleased with himself.

"Now you're a ray of sunshine this morning," he said and Castiel shrugged happily. "First child blessed in this kingdom in almost 30 years, huh?". Cas replied with a secretive "not quite" and that was enough confirmation for Dean. It shouldn't be possible, but Dean was certain that somehow Castiel had blessed him all those years ago.

* * *

As their journey continued, Cas decided to keep up his vigil at Dean's door, claiming that he might not be the witch of the realm anymore but it was still his duty. Dean let him be, because in some way or another Cas seemed to really enjoy giving himself the duty to watch over the crown prince. Maybe, Dean assumed, this way Cas could pretend for a while that nothing had changed, that the banishment all those years ago had never happened. Dean felt a pang of regret as he thought about it. Not only did he miss out on years spent with his brother, but he also could have known Cas all these years. But Dean wasn't one to dwell on the past as there was still plenty of time to strike up a friendship with Cas. Another reason why Dean allowed it was that he found it amusing how Mr. "I don't sleep" conked out in the cart the moment he sat down. So much for not needing sleep. It was adorable and quite touching, really.

Clearly, sleeping in the cart wasn't really comfortable. Castiel suppressed a groan when he hopped off of the cart, slowly stretching. They had reached the next big town on the route, the second to last before they reached the coast. The landscape here was already starting to look different, the wind blowing in had a different freshness to it and there were seagulls up in the air, calling out loudly.

"With the noises you're making you must be an old man," Dean teased, taking off Impala's saddle and then handing it over to the staff at the stables. Castiel shot him a disgruntled look.

"I'm not as old as you probably imagine," he groused. Before Dean had the chance to start a guessing game for Cas' age, the call of seagulls was drowned out by what must have been hundreds of crows flying over the town. Both of them and some of the other people around the stables looked up at the impressive display.

Dean looked at Cas and found him looking up disquieted.

"A portent?"

"There are almost too many, but I can read their warning," Castiel said, his voice low as not to worry the people around them. "Yellow eyes dreams of fire."

"Yellow eyes dreams of fire?" Dean repeated, receiving a nod from Cas. "That doesn't make a lot of sense. What are they on about? There's no fires anywhere." Castiel was still looking up, then he took Dean's hand and pulled him away.

"Let's go in, quick," he urged, which only worried Dean some more. "Yellow eyes was the name your family gave Azazel, one of the princes of hell, who had attacked your kingdom almost 30 years ago," Castiel told him, as he hurried through the corridor, Dean following a step behind, uneasy. Castiel locked the door behind them. Dean went to the window, still finding the crows circling, until they finally flew off in the direction of the coast. "Gabriel, who gave Sam the demon blood, also has golden, or yellow eyes," Castiel explained. "And Sam's eyes flicker yellow when he uses his powers."

"So Sam does have powers?" Dean asked, alarmed. Castiel seemed frustrated by the question.

"No! I mean yes! Yes he has powers, but they're not bad. Not demonic. He can move things with his mind. But that's all," he said and Dean approached him, arms lifted.

"Okay, calm down, Cas," he said and took hold of Castiel's hands giving them an encouraging squeeze. "It'll be fine." Castiel looked doubtful and uneasy. "Let's just get some sleep and food and then move on."

"Alright…," Castiel said, deflating.

"Good. Don't worry. Sam will be fine," Dean promised and hoped that he was right. Castiel sighed deeply but he nodded eventually.

"A good thought will carry you through many dark journeys," he muttered to himself. "A good thought… Sam will be fine." Dean observed him with some curiosity.

"That your motto or something?" he wondered, as he got out of his leather coat.

"What?" Cas asked distractedly, then he looked up at Dean. "Oh… Just something that popped in my head. Must be a proverb. I don't make it a habit of going on dark journeys anymore…" Dean laughed at that.

"Yeah. And this is not a dark journey. Everything's gonna be alright. Okay?" Castiel nodded, his mouth turning up just slightly. Good enough for Dean.

* * *

The next morning, Cas and Dean were greeted by tumult. People were out on the streets, looking towards the coast, worried, hands in front of their mouths.

"What happened?" Dean asked, finding a dark cloud rising in the distance.

"Lawrence… It's burning," the woman said, her voice incredulous. "I don't know what's happened. A messenger came and has alerted the major to prepare to take in victims."

"Shit," Dean hissed, then he slapped the back of his hand against Castiel's upper arm. "Hey, can I get the photo? Sam's photo?" Castiel stared at him blankly but then the words seemed to register and he reached into his coat, rummaging for the picture. Eventually he found it and handed it over. "Thanks." Dean showed it to the woman, who he knew had stayed in the same inn with them. "Have you per chance seen this man pass through?"

"Oh…" she said, picking up on Dean's worried expression. She looked at the picture and then she nodded. "Yes… Lovely young man, he and a young lady sat at the breakfast table next to me yesterday. He departed for Lawrence in the afternoon. Sorry, dear," she said, heartfelt. "I'm sure he's fine. It's just a fire." A man cleared his throat and Dean looked at him. He stood next to the lady.

"Sorry, I overheard. If you want to be there quick and have a fast horse, there's a short cut. It should take you only two hours if you ride fast," he said and Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "Do you have a map?" Dean nodded right away and pulled it out, while Castiel hurried to the stables to get Impala ready.

"Thank you so much," Dean said, waving at the two and then he dashed off.

"I know the cart is too slow, but please let me come with you," Castiel pleaded, as Dean got into the saddle. Dean nodded, reaching out his hand. The relief on Castiel's face was immense and he took Dean's hand to swing up on the saddle too, holding on to Dean.

"If I weren't worried, I'd say something about how romantic this is. A chase through the fields," Dean said, as he urged the horse out into the open space. He had easily found the hidden path through the high grass. "You and me, on a horse. Wind in our hair."

"I can smell the fire on the air," Castiel said, dashing Dean's attempts at levity.

"This… wasn't Sam's doing, right?" he dared to ask as they entered the forest, the air cool and mist swirling up as Impala ran. "The curse… the prophecy said he would come into full power with 18… Maybe your upbringing has only delayed the inevitable?"

"Dean," Castiel reprimanded sharply.

"I'm just saying, Cas! It's a curse! And no matter how hard you try, it's still there!"

"No," Castiel snapped. "He's a good man, he would never do anything evil. Please, Dean, you've got to believe me. Sam is _good_." Dean didn't say anything to that, but he felt the desperation radiate off Castiel. He took one hand off the reins and patted Castiel's where it was grabbing on to the fabric of Dean's shirt.

"Okay," he said, but then he let go of Castiel's hand and let his finger seek out the hilt of his sword. There was a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

It was worse than Castiel imagined. As they came closer to the city, the column of black smoke was growing and growing, the stench of fire and ash heavy on the air. People were screaming, trying to douse the flames. But the fire seemed to be alive, vicious almost, and all human efforts made little to no progress.

"Damn, this is an inferno, I've never seen a whole city on fire!" Dean shouted over the roar of the fire and people's cries. Castiel paid him no attention, since his gaze was drawn upwards. Hundreds of crows were sitting on the roofs of the houses that hadn't yet caught on fire. They were silent, watching, unhelpful. Castiel's eyes met the one with golden eyes, starting right back at him. Gabriel was here, watching.

Dean stopped the horse and got off. Castiel startled when Dean put his hands on Castiel's waist, helping him down. They were next to what looked like the commander of the fire fighters. The man noticed Dean at once and clearly also recognized him as the crown prince.

"The entire old quarter is on fire and it's spreading fast," the commander said. "Right now we're trying our best to contain it and prevent it from swallowing up more of the city."

"Alright. We have to try to get as many people out as we can. This is tragic, but the city can be rebuilt," Dean said and the commander nodded. Dean turned to Cas. "Can you do anything at all? Make it rain, maybe?" The commander looked at them curiously.

"On demonic fire?" Castiel asked, his expression incredulous at the suggestion, because that was what this fire must be. It sent something in him on edge.

"If it's demonic we'll be having the scholars put up sigils right away," the commander said and with a nod of Dean's head the commander was gone, shouting orders.

"Come on, it's worth a shot, right?" Dean urged and Castiel heaved a sigh.

"I don't know if I can still do it. I haven't worked magic like that in decades," he confessed but Dean only nodded at him, full of confidence. Castiel lifted up both his hands, coaxing the core of his magic out of its slumber. He felt it stir, then with a jolt that surprised him, it roared back to life. His eyes flashed bright blue and then he could feel it. He felt the fire, the hot air and up, the clouds, the wind all the way from the ocean. It took no effort at all to ask nature to bend to his will, for it to rain down on the city in torrents and torrents, making the fire hiss and cackle, protest valiantly, but losing. Castiel lowered his hands, knowing that the rain would continue until it was satisfied with its work. Cas turned to Dean.

"I must find Sam," he said, holding up his hand when Dean pulled out his sword with a grim nod. "It's not safe. You should stay back." Dean frowned.

"And do what? Hope for you to slam a frying pan into someone's face? No, you need my help," he said. "At least let me help find someone who can help us." That Castiel decided to allow. Dean flitted from person to person, asking after Sam, until eventually he found someone who knew where he had stayed at; an inn right in the center of the old town. It was dangerous to go that far into the fires, even though the rain and the sigils the fire fighters had put up had doused much of it. The inn however was still ablaze, windows dark holes that spit fire.

Cas didn't hesitate a moment before he went into the front door, but he was dismayed to find that Dean stubbornly followed him.

"I can help!" he shouted over the fire, his face already dirty with ash and sweat dripping from his brow.

"Okay, but you must stay down here and get people out of the rooms if you can! Don't do anything reckless, Dean!" He said and Dean nodded. Luckily for Cas's intense worry, some of the fire fighters were quick to follow their crown-prince into the building, preventing him from being too heroic. That left Castiel to go up, the fire trying to lick at him, but being prevented by his magic. He tried to get a read on the place, searching for imprints Sam had left behind. Finally, he found a tiny trace of him and followed it to a room. He held out his hand and the door burst open. Fire greeted him, but he stepped through it.

"Sam!" he shouted, frantically looking through the blaze. Sam wasn't here but before Cas could give up with a frustrated roar, he looked up and almost screamed in horror. Jess was stuck to the ceiling, gasping, tears streaming down her face and blood dripping from a wound on her stomach. Castiel lifted up his hands and Jess was released from the magic that held her up, dropping into Castiel's arms with a groan. She was fading fast, so Castiel sent a shock of energy through her, that knitted together the worst of her wounds, stopping her life from bleeding out, but it also knocked her out with a breathless gasp.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered and lifted the girl up, carrying her out of the room after one last look had made sure that Sam wasn't here. He stumbled down the stairs and found Dean waiting at the bottom.

"Cas!" he shouted and helped take part of Jess' weight. "Fuck, is she alive?" Dean asked as they carried her out.

"Barely. I healed the worst of her wounds, but we need to get her to safety! I can feel the fire all around, the malice of it…! It's dreadful!"

"But Sam's not here?" Dean shouted over the noise and breathed out a sigh of relief when Castiel shook his head. When they were out and had Jess transferred to a stretcher to be treated, Castiel took a moment just to stare up into the sky in despair.

"Come… let's get out of here," Dean said gently, pulling Castiel along, bundling him up into the firefighter's vehicle to get out of the old town.

* * *

By midday the fires were still burning, but a dreadful quiet and darkness had settled over the town of Lawrence. The magical rain continued on, and Castiel stood in a door frame, sheltered from the rain, holding on to his upper arms. Dean was helping coordinate with the royal forces, trying to account for people, organizing shelters and manpower. Counting the dead… Castiel couldn't think about it just yet. He still felt the heat of the fire, so familiar to him, despite its vicious nature.

"Castiel," one of the people from the hospital approached him. "Come, help," she pleaded and Castiel nodded, following her.

Dean noticed that Cas was no longer huddling in the door frame, trying to digest what had happened, a while later. "Where's Cas?" he asked, looking around. "Has anyone seen Cas?"

"He went to help at the hospital, your Majesty," a young woman, probably a nun, told him, "I can take you there?"

"Thank you, that's very kind," Dean said, following her.

"We don't have enough space, so we set up some tents outside as well," she said, sounding apologetic, as if Dean would possibly judge them for it.

"That's great, you're well prepared," he praised and she looked at him in relief.

"Oh, thank you. Our major-" she was interrupted by a loud scream.

"Get out! Go to hell!" a man was shouting. Dean exchanged a look with the nun, then they ran to where the commotion was, finding a nurse keeping to the very edge of the tent, clipboard held to her chest. There were many beds lined up, most holding people with grave injuries and some already had the blankets drawn over their bodies. A man was standing by one bed, a woman lying in it. Dean could see that she was gone. Castiel was standing by the foot of the bed, looking grim.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Sorry is not good enough! You are supposed to help! What good are you magic scum if you don't help! My wife is innocent! She didn't deserve to die!"

"I know… But I cannot-" he started but the man grabbed a dark glass bottle and tossed it at Castiel. Everybody shouted in alarm as it hit his forehead, making him stumble backwards. The nurse and the nun went to the man, who was screaming, trying to find other things to toss.

For a moment, Dean couldn't react, simply watching blood trickle down Cas' face. He wasn't sure why it surprised him this much that Cas could in fact bleed. After a second, he got moving, helping Castiel up from the ground and leading him out. It was still raining, the sound heavy on the little tent that held supplies where Dean had sought shelter and quiet for them. He looked tired and slumped on a crate as there was no chair or bed free, but he didn't complain. When Dean bent down to look at the wound that poured blood down his face, Dean felt that he looked drawn, older and impossibly sad.

"Stay put," Dean said and went to fetch some water so that he could at least clean Castiel's face until a nurse was free to help sew him up. "You did the best you could," Dean told him gently, as he wiped the ash and the blood away. "It's not your fault."

Castiel remained silent.

* * *

Castiel would have liked to just sit somewhere, quietly, and sort through his emotions, but it was vital that they found out what had happened here. Sam was gone after all and this fire had been of demonic origin. Cas couldn't even entertain the notion that Sam was responsible for this but Dean had a guarded look about himself that did nothing to soothe Castiel's nerves.

It was a relief when Jess woke up. She was disoriented when she came to, staring at Cas like she had seen an apparition.

"I was worried about Sam," he told her softly, before she had to formulate a question. She frowned and then her eyes landed on Dean. "That is Dean. He's Sam's brother."

"Sam has a brother?" Jess managed to ask, then she realized that they weren't strangers. "It's you!" Dean chuckled when she sat up with that, her tone incredulous. She flinched slightly, as her movement jostled her wounds. She groaned and let herself drop back down into the cushions. "Ow."

"Jess… Can you tell us anything about what has happened?" Dean asked, his voice gentle.

"I… It's so bizarre," she admitted. "On route we met a man, who called himself Asmodeus." Cas tensed at the name, but he didn't interrupt. "He made pleasant small talk at first and when Sam told him about his desire to study and learn more of the world, he was very interested. He told him that there were lots of things he could teach him. He was a scholar and a collector of knowledge." Jess heaved a sigh. "I found him a bit… eerie, but I didn't dare say anything at all because clearly Sam was excited to talk to him and the things Asmodeus told us about were interesting… When we got here the guy invited us to stay in the same hotel as him to continue our conversation."

"Where we found you?" Dean asked and Jess nodded.

"They went out together for drinks, but I was tired from the journey. I had a bath and when I came back out of the bathroom, Asmodeus was just there. Grinning at me creepily. And I thought: shit, he is going to hurt me. But before I knew what was happening, I was seeing everything upside down." Her breath shuddered as she tried to calm herself enough to keep on talking. Dean squeezed her hands that were knotted into the cover. She sent him a grateful, watery smile. "Somehow, I was stuck to the ceiling. I couldn't speak, I couldn't scream. I couldn't even alert Sam when he came back. There suddenly was a fierce pain in my stomach and I felt blood fall. And… And Sam looked up, noticing the blood, but before he could do anything, Asmodeus grabbed him. And then everything was ablaze…" Jess' father stepped in now, putting his arms around his daughter.

"I think she needs rest. I don't mean any disrespect, but…" He looked up at Dean beseechingly and the young prince nodded with an encouraging smile.

"Thank you, Jess… We'll make sure to find Sam," he promised. Castiel watched him shake hands with Jess' father, then he excused himself, nodding his head at Castiel, so he would follow. Dean was rubbing his mouth when he stalked through the corridors of the hospital, clearly far more agitated than he let on.

"So it wasn't Sam," he said, suddenly turning around, causing Castiel to stop. "I mean… Man, I don't get what's going on. Is this dude trying to kill Sam or did he abduct him? What's his angle here? And what's with the fire?"

"Knowing Asmodeus he wants to use Sam for his own gain," Castiel said, trying to remain calm even though he was greatly worried. "As you might now, the demonic realm is divided into smaller kingdoms. There used to be four princes of hell, coming all from the same bloodline, but only one of them had ever been interested in conquest."

"Azazel, yes," Dean muttered. "I paid attention during history lessons," he said, uncharacteristically harsh. Castiel chose to ignore it.

"Asmodeus is a collector… it appears that he is looking to consolidate his power. It's not unlikely that the prophecy has reached the ears of demons as well…," Castiel said. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I should have known… Sam wasn't safe. I shouldn't have let him go alone, not around his 18th birthday. I have failed Sam." He looked at Dean, then at the hospital corridor they were in. "I have failed the people in this city. All the good I'm trying to do… It's pointless…"

"No… No Cas," Dean started, shaking his head. He grabbed on to Castiel's shoulder, giving him a shake. "This is not your fault. Asmodeus set the fire, not you. You're helping. You're healing all you can," he told him. "Are you listening to me? You're doing the best you can!"

"I don't… I don't know if it's enough," Castiel confessed, feeling the tears gather in his eyes. He wouldn't cry, not here, not now, but he felt horrible.

" Sam's not lost. He's been kidnapped. And what could you have done? Imprisoned Sam in the tower, so that nothing dangerous would ever happen to him?" Castiel shook his head. "Right, that's what I thought. This isn't your fault. And you're not alone, Cas. We're gonna do this, bring Sam home. Don't give up hope." Castiel studied Dean and his open, honest expression. "Good thoughts and all of that, right?"

"Okay…," Castiel muttered and Dean gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Thank you, Dean."

"Don't mention it. Now… Where could Asmodeus have taken Sam?" Dean wondered. Castiel heaved a sigh, trying to think.

"Haah…," he started with a loud exhale and shook his head, "there used to be a direct but dangerous path to the land of demons. I've walked it many times, while I was young. I suppose it would still be there. But it might just have gotten more dangerous with time," Castiel told him. Dean looked determined, nodding along. "Dean… I have to go alone. It's not safe for you."

"No way, you're not going to get rid of me. I'll be there to protect you and get Sam back," Dean vowed. It was slightly dramatic, but Dean pulled his sword out of its sheath, raising more than one inquisitive eyebrow by the passing nurses. "On my honor, I swear that I will protect you."

"Oh, Dean… No… I'm the witch, you're the future king. This is not how it's supposed to be," Castiel told him, feeling a mixture of anxiety and excitement that he couldn't quite explain to himself. Dean put his sword back.

"Nope. Don't care. No take backs," he said then he grinned at Cas. "Let's go!"


	9. The Wild Land of Magic

The beautiful soft hills of the Winchester coast, with the long swaying grass and the taste of fresh sea salt on the air, soon changed into different lands, wilder lands where barely any human still dared to go. Steep cliffs and gurgling ravines Dean and Cas passed until they reached the marshes that had swallowed the blood of many Winchester soldiers in centuries of war against the realm of Hell. Dean didn't like being here, carefully stepping on narrow paths that Castiel deemed safe for him and Impala to step on. Will-o-the-wisps flickered in the distance, crows sat in dead trees, watching, silent. Past the marshes were the ruins of wooden huts, a settlement that had long been lost to the wheels of time.

"Careful. The ghosts are watching," Castiel said into the eerie silence as they passed through the houses. Dean could see movement in the corners of his eyes. He pulled up his hood and kept his eyes down.

"Rest for a moment, but not long, it's too dangerous," Castiel said as they had left the eerie village behind them. A dense forest was rising before him, the path dark and shrouded in fog. There were tingling noises coming from it, like little bells. Dean didn't even dare to ask about it. Dean took the time to drink some water and observe Castiel. Here in this realm it was clear as day that Castiel wasn't human. His eyes glowed blue as he turned his head around, listening to things Dean didn't hear, seeing a world that Dean didn't know existed. After a while, Castiel lifted his hand and a lantern materialized in his hand. It was big and looked heavy. Castiel lifted it to his face and blew into it. A green flame flickered to life.

"Get on your horse," Castiel advised Dean and the prince was too apprehensive to waste any time asking questions. Castiel took Impala's reins and he held out the light. Then they started moving. As soon as they had set foot into the forest, Dean cursed. It was dark and cold like during winter. Impala moved nervously but Castiel tugged at the reins, whispering something to her, and she calmed down.

"This is the only way a human can move through this forest without getting lost."

"You mean I need a guide," Dean said, vaguely seeing Castiel nod in the darkness. Dean saw shadows dash through what little light the lantern cast. The mood was decidedly subdued and for a long time neither of them spoke.

"Cas… Can I ask about your banishment?"

"Of course," the witch answered, not seeming particularly interested in the topic.

"Having gotten to know you, there is no way you betrayed the crown… I can't imagine it at all. You are so eager to do good and to serve," Dean started. "Of course, I don't know you well, but…" He left the sentence hanging open, an invitation for Castiel to start talking.

"Thirty years ago, Winchester was at war with Azazel's armies. Despite the fact that the kingdoms had agreed upon a temporary ceasefire, Azazel attacked. At that time, your father was visiting Campbell and an entire royal caravan was touring the kingdom in celebration of John and Mary's engagement. They were slaughtered in an ambush… Mary escaped, bringing with her King Campbell and John… Her father had already died and John was on the brink of death. Mary came to me asking for help, but I can't revive dead people. As you saw…" There was still a gash on Castiel's forehead, so yes, Dean definitely remembered. "Mary demanded that it be done… But it's black magic. She threatened banishment if I didn't do it, but I still refused… She also didn't let me heal your father because of that…"

"But my dad's alive…"

"Yes," Castiel said. "There are many witches and Mary found one who had no qualms about using black magic. But by the time she reached Gabriel your father had died. And Gabriel isn't known for being generous in the granting of favors. He made Mary choose between her father and her husband."

"What is it with that dude and giving my Mom such hard choices to make?" Dean complained, feeling righteous in his anger. Castiel understood, as he himself would never demand such hard sacrifices. "This is the way of us supernatural creatures, Dean… Everything comes at a price and what your mother asked for was very advanced magic…"

"Sucks," Dean decided which Castiel chose not to comment. "That means she banished you as punishment?" Castiel nodded. "Dude, that's not fair."

"I didn't particularly enjoy her choice either," Castiel said dryly and Dean couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

"But despite that, despite my mother punishing you for something that wasn't your fault, you blessed me?" Dean wanted to know. Castiel turned his head to look at Dean, his blue eyes glowing.

"So you know?" Cas wondered. Dean shrugged. "Of course I blessed you. The crown prince must be blessed. Bobby told your mother he took you to fairies, but the future king should be blessed by a witch. It's just right."

"So I've got you to thank for my otherworldly good looks?" Dean teased.

"In a way. I think that blessing turned out particularly well," Castiel retorted with a smile.

"Aw, you know how to make a man blush," Dean said with a grin. He sobered up after a while. "Thank you, Cas… Honestly. You're a good person." Castiel lowered his head, keeping silent. Dean's words meant a lot to him, but a dark part of Castiel knew that he didn't deserve them. There was still so much to atone for and maybe he never would be able to redeem himself. But Dean's words gave him hope and he would let that hope fuel him.

* * *

They found a place to lay down for the night and Dean couldn’t be more grateful. Castiel had found them a promising abandoned house, not long before the mountain pass. They were both at the end of their strength, tired because Castiel had refused to stop in the forest. Dean didn't mind that, because he had felt the danger of it like a person breathing down on his neck. No… This was good. It was somewhat solid, with walls to shelter them from the bitter cold wind. Castiel had drawn them a protective ward though he wouldn't quite tell Dean what kind of dangers lurked outside. Maybe it was better that way. Castiel lit a fire with his magic and Dean groaned in relief, sitting close and warming his hands. Impala had also been allowed into the house and was happily sleeping after being fed.

"We should sleep," Castiel said, getting Dean's travel blankets out of his trunk. Dean nodded and lay down, but resisted when Cas wanted to put the blanket only over Dean.

"No no no. No way are you going to be cold. Come on, Cas. Don't be so shy," Dean said, patting the cold ground next to him. Castiel blushed slightly, but eventually he agreed and lay down next to Dean. The prince didn't lose any time to wrap his arms around Cas, pulling him close and sighing into his hair. Castiel awkwardly tried to adjust the blanket over them.

"Come on, hugging needs two," Dean said until Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean too. "Great. If we were in a more romantic setting I would suggest sex to warm up."

"Dean…!" Castiel hissed.

"Come on, a man can dream. If you're not interested I'll go dream about someone else," Dean said, his voice light. Castiel heaved a sigh.

"I didn't say that."

"Good, happy to know that," Dean announced with a grin, then he yawned loudly. Castiel had hoped that this was the end of this particular conversation. He was flattered and there was no denying that he was drawn to the prince. But this wasn't a good idea.

"Hey… Why can't you do black magic? Can't you or won't you?" Castiel tensed at the question which Dean answered by hugging Cas firmer until he relaxed again.

"I won't," Cas answered with a sigh. "I was cursed by the witch my father traded me in for. I was a young boy then."

"Traded you in for? For what?"

"Rapunzel," Cas answered and Dean eased up on the hug enough to raise up slightly so he could stare down at Cas incredulous.

"What?"

"Rapunzel. Corn salad."

"You're fucking kidding me," Dean exclaimed. Impala's ear flickered in annoyance and Cas sent him an admonishing look. They were still in dangerous lands, better to keep his voice down a little. "Seriously? A child for some salad? That must have been damn good salad!"

"It was Rowena's Rapunzel. She got the seeds for a very high price and she cultivated them to contain magic. It wasn't quite worth a first-born but Rowena thought she could exchange me for more power in the wild forest."

"Exchanging you. Like… at the Goblin market?"

"No… the fairy folk at the Goblin market notoriously underpay for first-born sons." Dean frowned. "She left me in the forest. Ancient entities live there, so old that we have long lost their names. They grant magic, for the price of an offering…"

"Fuck."

"Yes, you said that before," Castiel said, with a small smile. "When that didn't quite work she put a curse on me and made me do her bidding. It was gruesome. All that dark magic, the blood… the anger and malice and the bitter taste of it all…" Castiel sighed.

"The old lady in the village mentioned it before… That you are the one they call the witch knight Rapunzel. The one that cried tears of blood. It seems hard to believe that you've ever spilled blood," Dean said, his voice not unkind.

"Yes… I've done many bad things, Dean…"

"But you didn't have a choice. You were cursed, Cas… How does that make you bad?" Dean brushed the hair out of Castiel's face when he wouldn't meet Dean's eyes. "Do you think I'm bad?"

"No, never. I know you're good." Castiel answered promptly.

"Thanks for the vote in confidence, Cas," Dean said lightly. "But I've seen battles too. I've killed people. My parents didn't want me to fight, but I only thought it right to help. I never want to go back on a battle field… I was lucky, but so many people died. The blood, the anguish. I won't forget the screams and laments, ever. Power isn't worth fighting those battles."

"If that is your view of things, then I'm glad that you will be the future ruler of Winchester," Castiel told him with a gentle smile. Now it was Dean's turn to blush. "Though you still have much to learn."

"Uff, thanks Cas," Dean said but both of them chuckled. "How did you break the curse?"

"I didn't," Castiel confessed. "Not really. I merely substituted one for another. If I do any act of dark magic, which sadly includes reviving those that have died, I will die. All the darkness will come back rushing in and there's no way my body could contain it…" Dean looked at Cas with horror.

"Shit… You have piss poor luck, Cas. Traded in for salad, left to be eaten by ancient monsters, heaped with curses…"

"I thought so too, earlier. But now I'm not so sure anymore," he said with a gentle smile. Dean pulled down his eyebrows, giving his head a small shake. "The years I got to raise Sam were a blessing. And spending time with you…"

Dean leant in and kissed him, swallowing the rest of Cas' words. Castiel looked at him with wide eyes when Dean drew back.

"I feel the same," Dean told him, slightly breathless. "Let's rescue Sam and then we're going to fix it. I promise, Cas. I will fix everything." Castiel bit his lips but he allowed hope and adoration to fill his chest. "Okay?"

"Yes, okay." It was a promise after all.

* * *

"A little bit ridiculous, isn't it?" the witch wondered, her voice echoing in the tower ruin. The bundle in her arms was silent, but it moved restlessly. She heaved a sigh and looked around at this place. It had always been a ruin, as long as her memory and the memory of the witches before her stretched. It had always been ancient, looming, with a vague but insistent heaviness on it that spoke of old magic. Of darker days.

"Better days for witches," she said, a reminiscent smile playing on her lips, the softest the bundle in her arms would have seen so far, had it not been wrapped up in fabric. A curtain the unfortunate thief had stolen from his wife, just like he had stolen the newborn. Little Castiel. What a waste, giving away a name as special as that to something you wouldn't be able to keep. But it didn't matter to the witch.

With one last look of reverence at the only marking post of the land of humans coming to an end, the witch stepped out of the still standing tower and crossed the ruins of what had once been a building. A fortress maybe, but time and the old magic and the stubbornness of the human soul had worn it down. But the witch knew that to magic stone and mortar were not of lasting import; today a witch came looking for the road towards the Wild. Maybe another day this ruin would be needed for something else. The magic would know and the witch did not need to ponder it.

Her steps were quick, the squirming of the infant stronger now despite the fact that its vitality should have been waning. There were brambles lining her path, catching at her cloak and at the fabric the unfortunate child was wrapped in, but she wasn't deterred. On the contrary, she felt invigorated in a way that she hadn't in at least 50 years.

"Got some spark in you yet, don't you?" the witch asked with a smirk. "First-borns aren't what they once were. Went down in market value quite a bit." Her brisk pace through the overgrown lands surrounding the ruins slowed down as the air became heavy, the old magic vibrating in the air like the promise of lightning. The newborn gave a small whimper and the witch looked down. The curtain had caught on thorns and revealed the child, who had its wide blue eyes on her. It stirred something in the witch's chest, a little defiant spark of an instinct, but she chased away the momentary puzzlement with a chuckle.

"Oh you, Castiel. Don't turn those accusing eyes on me," she cooed and toed an invisible line in the mossy grass with her pointed shoe. "I have no need for a servant and neither do I want a son to replace Fergus," she said, then she stepped over the invisible line she had drawn. She didn’t stop to feel the wave of old magic crash down on her, she didn't stop to breathe in the fragrance of this wild, dark forest, neither did she stop to meet the eyes of the creatures that were looking at her from the shadows or the shimmering cracks to other realms. No, she was a witch with a mission.

She walked until she found a clearing. It wasn't remarkable, no altar, no tree stump, not even a fairy circle. Just a rough patch of dry dirt and stubborn moss. But she could feel the old magic here, it was strong, watchful, interested. Yes… This was what she needed. She put the child down. Almost as if he knew that he was in grave danger, Castiel started to whimper and it soon turned into a wail.

"If you cry, you're just increasing your chances of being grabbed by a Goblin, or eaten by a harpy," the witch said, then she removed her hood, letting her red hair spill over her shoulders.

"Old ones! I have brought to you a humble offering, a first son. I beseech you to take this child and trade his lifeforce for power," she called, her voice loud, a wave of energy that blew away the mist crawling over the ground. She pulled a small dagger from her belt and cut into her palm. "Remember my name! Rowena McLeod is the one who brought you this child and who is deserving of your reward!" she called. Three drops of blood fell to the ground and quickly a thin line of fire spread, circling the child and then it extinguished just as quickly. Castiel continued to cry, but other than that the Wild Forest was as silent as a grave. Rowena smiled. Without looking back, she turned around, leaving the site of Castiel's demise.

If no new power would come to her, then either one of two things was true; the child got rejected by the magic and left to be eaten by whatever creature came upon him, or the gossip was true and witches should really find something else to invest in than first born children.

Children were overrated anyway. Castiel's father had agreed because humans were simple like that and knew that they could just make another child. But the mother, well… Mothers were different. Not Rowena, of course, who had learnt her lesson regarding motherhood and the ingratitude of children a long time ago. She couldn't quite forget the words the mother had spoken to her child though. She hadn't heard the words because Rowena wasn't one to tolerate how pitifully tearful humans got when they were confronted with the consequences of their actions. But the words had clung to the child the way only a blessing could.

"A good thought will carry you through many dark journeys," Rowena muttered to herself, then she snorted. Castiel's dark journeys were already over, but he had lasted two days, so maybe there was some truth to the fabled blessings given to newborns.

No matter. Rowena had a garden to tend to, the Rapunzel had to grow.

* * *

It was years later, twelve to be precise, when Castiel found his way back to Rowena. She had carelessly taken note of someone stumbling through her Rapunzel, but she was knitting right now, so whatever punishment she doled out would have to wait until this line was done. But then there was a knock on her door, a little one, almost a shy little rasp as if someone wasn't sure if this was the right door. Hah! If someone came knocking at a witch's door they should better be sure what they're doing. Rowena was tempted to let the moment pass, but then the knocking returned, louder this time, almost a bang and Rowena startled when the door swung open, crashing against the wall. Rowena rose out of her chair with an annoyed huff, facing the intruder.

And then there he was. Rowena stood there, speechless and shocked (a rare emotion to befall a witch of her caliber). In her door stood a child, soaked through with darkness and power, far too dense for a child that small. It was dirty and thin, hard to say if it was a boy or a girl, with its thin frame and long, tangled hair. But she would recognize that little tingling feeling of a blessing that chimed like a faint bell on Rowena's mind.

A good thought will carry you through many dark journeys.

A laugh of disbelief escaped the witch. Castiel, the Rapunzel child, was back, studying her out of a muddy face, with eyes as blue as pure fire.

"Well, a deal's a deal," Rowena called, putting on a mask of reluctance to cover her lingering surprise. The boy hesitated, but then he closed the door carefully and approached her. "Ach, look at you. Like a weed just plucked from the soil, you are! You bring a dozen years of muck right into my living room. Go upstairs and get washed." The boy hesitated but then he followed the order. When he was out of sight Rowena let herself fall into her chair, baffled.

Well, you couldn't blame a witch for being surprised. She had given the forest a child in exchange for power and when nothing had happened, she had simply assumed that the offering had been lacking. Or that her newfound skill for knitting had been the gift. Wild magic was fickle that way. Sometimes it gave you the power to revive the death and at other times it dealt out domestic magic. It could all be one big, unbelievable joke at times but witches were nothing if not practical and have long learnt to simply laugh along.

But now the power was back, in the shape of a scraggly boy. Rowena got up and walked to her book shelf. She pulled out on of her smaller tomes, but what it lacked in size it made up in darkness. If the raw power of the wild came wrapped up in a kid, then she simply had to work around that. Her little Rapunzel was a tool, she just needed to figure out how to use it. She flipped through the pages until she found the right page. Her finger traced over the words which would set the route for Castiel's next dark journey: Impetus Bestiarum.


	10. Rapunzel's Choice

With a deep exhale, Castiel woke from the vague grasps of his dreams. He felt a lingering sense of unease as he lay there, looking up at the clear sky showing through the missing boards of the roof. For a moment he was simply happy to bask in the quiet magic of the night, of existing solely to witness the light of the stars. He let the last wisps of his dreams and memories seep away into the deeper, darker parts of his soul.

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. Then, almost if the world was fully coming back to him, he felt the warm presence of Dean next to him. He turned his head to the side, finding Dean curled towards him, his face handsome even in sleep, a small pout on his lips. Castiel lifted his hand to wipe some stray strands of hair out of Dean's face, then he pulled the travelling blanket over Dean's shoulder and up to his chin. Dean's brow furrowed, but then it smoothed out and the pout vanished.

Knowing Dean firmly in the realm of sleep, Castiel got up. Something was on the periphery of his awareness, nothing evil, but the apprehension remained. He put on his cloak and stepped out of the hut. He and Dean were still on their journey to find Sam. They had made it past the mountain pass, a dangerous stretch of their path was behind them for the moment. In the valley they had crossed over the ancient border stones, back into a small pocket of Winchester land, nestled comfortably, sleepy and almost forgotten surrounded by magic. Soon they would go back into the wild, but tonight Castiel knew Dean to be safe.

He heard the sound of wings flapping and when he turned to look to their temporary shelter, he found a crow having ascended into the air. Castiel walked away from the abandoned hut, following the faint shadow the bird cast over the tall grass. It was a comfortable summer evening, not too cold, but also not very chilly. There was no path he followed, but there was a pull inside him, resonating magic that showed him the way. He entered a line of old trees, their barks furrowed, cracked and covered in lichen, but very much alive still. As he stepped out of the copse of trees it felt like he dove into warm water, but then the sensation was gone and he found himself in a field of glowing flowers. Magic was humming in the air, pinpricks of light glowed in the air and there were shards of flickering light breaking through the space, like the curious eyes of children, peeking through the holes in a fence. He had grossed into the wild land, the magic alive and untamed, but not menacing. It was simply being, existing, brushing past and through Castiel, its music humming in the hollow spaces between his rips. But Cas had no interest in basking in it, there was no time to get lost.

The crow circled overhead and Castiel gazed at the cloaked figure standing a short distance away from Castiel, waiting. It removed its hood once Castiel approached, revealing the amusement dancing in the Gabriel's golden eyes.

"Castiel! Getting laid by the crown prince of Winchester!" Gabriel said by way of greeting. "You rebel!" Castiel chose to ignore his words.

"What is going on?" he demanded instead and Gabriel pursed his lips innocently. "Why are you testing me?" Gabriel laughed, a short and brisk sound.

"Testing you? I'm not doing anything, my fine feathered friend," he said amicably, clearly having a good time. "This? Your little human friends getting into trouble? It's just happening." Castiel narrowed his eyes.

"Your crow has been following me since I started my journey," he told him, lowering his voice in warning. Gabriel however just waved his hand dismissively.

"Please! Just a precaution," Gabriel assured him.

"For what?" Castiel asked and found Gabriel's eyes on him, the gaze stern for once, warning.

"You have to be ready," he said and Castiel tensed. Gabriel held his eyes for a while longer, then he lifted his head and sighed. His shoulders slumped, his powerful aura receding deeper into himself. "Look. Just think about it. Clearly you've got a thing for the Winchester boy. You found something in him and he found something in you or something equally sappy. I don't know. But Dean isn't king yet. All those little promises he makes you in-between sweet kisses? Worthless."

"No, you-" Castiel wanted to interrupt but the crow cried out in warning and Castiel was momentarily distracted.

"Look around you, you fool! The world Dean lives in, the world he promises you, has wiped its hands of magic! It banished all of it, including you. You must think about what this is all worth, and I mean really think about it," Gabriel told him, his voice strong, barely bothering to conceal the anger he felt about it, but who exactly it was aimed at, Cas wasn't sure. "You could be free, like I am, like Rowena is! Why raise Mary's child? Why chase him now? Mary made her choice and it had to have consequences!"

"She has no son," Castiel reminded him sternly, his voice carrying loudly over the field, "isn't that consequence enough?" Gabriel groaned, his whole body moving with the exasperated roll of his eyes.

"You've got to stop taking responsibility for other people's mistakes and misfortune! Get angry!" Gabriel shouted, "Be selfish! Steal away the prince and take your pleasure off him." Castiel frowned.

"No, this is not who I am, I would never let Dean come to harm, especially not by my own hand." Gabriel exhaled loudly, shaking his head.

"Pity. He's very easy on the eyes," he said and Castiel let go some of the tension that held his shoulders straight and alert.

"Gabriel," Castiel asked, his voice beseeching, which made the other witch lift his eyebrow skeptically. "Won't you help me? Sam is in danger."

"Why would I do that? I have no interest in Winchester melodrama. Sam will be fine either way," Gabriel assured him, his voice bordering on bored. "Asmodeus is a hack, he can't harm Sam. But who knows, he might spill someone else's blood if he doesn't get what he wants. Demons are petty, like humans."

"Gabriel…"

"One more time, Cas, because we're friends," Gabriel started. "Humans aren't worth it. They have wronged you many times and there's no guarantee they won't do it again." Castiel breathed in deeply, then straightened, a defiant look on his face.

"Then so be it. I have faith."

"Oh for the love of-" Gabriel started in annoyance, then he snapped his fingers and was gone. The crow gave one more call, then it flew away, leaving Cas alone in the field. There was silence now that Gabriel was gone, with him a very faint hope Cas had harbored in his chest. But it would be alright. He believed in Sam and Dean. And he had to believe in himself.

* * *

For the most part of the journey, Dean had tried to provide a constant stream of good-natured chatter, but now he had picked up on Castiel's wariness and had fallen silent. He continued to be a welcome presence at Castiel's side. Part of that was because the prince was an expert with a sword and the lands here were dangerous, even deserted as they seemed to be. Above all, Castiel took comfort in Dean's reassuring touches and his occasional gentle words.

"We'll find him. He'll be fine," Dean promised yet again and even though Cas was determined to believe him, an unbidden flash of Gabriel's warnings crossed through his mind. "Positive thinking, Cas!"

"Positive thinking," Castiel muttered to himself as they made their way over an uneven foot path next to a hill. They were in a forest, but the trees were far between, letting in a lot of milky light from the overcast sky.

"Huh? What are you saying?" Dean asked from somewhere behind him, where he was inspecting the border markings on a boulder.

"Ah, nothing," Castiel said dismissively, then he tilted his head at Dean. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure," Dean said pensively but that was enough to bring Cas to him, to study what he had found. "I thought it was paint, but it looks fresh. Blood maybe?" Castiel studied the smudge Dean was pointing at, right under the mile marker. "I hope it's not Sam's…"

"It would actually be good if it were Sam's blood," Castiel said and then he put his hand over it, letting his magic reach out to the blood.

"How could it possibly be good that Sam's bleeding?" Dean asked with a huff. "You witches always with your body fluids."

"You weren't complaining this morning," Castiel admonished but that only got him a grin from Dean.

"I doubt you can do evil magic after giving me a blow job," Dean said.

"You would be surprised," Castiel said, distractedly but he couldn't even enjoy Dean's baffled silence, because the magic reacted, the familiar feeling of Sam blooming across Castiel's awareness and tugging at him. "It is Sam's blood."

"Ugh… then we should be glad it's just a smudge and not a puddle," Dean muttered, then he tilted his head at Cas. "And now?"

"Blood is very useful for tracking. I was following the trail on instinct mostly because I can feel a faint imprint of Sam's presence. But like reading nature, it's unreliable. Sam knows that this way I can track him, so he must have taken the chance to leave it somewhere visible."

"Yeah, that sounds more like dumb luck to me," Dean muttered, then he shrugged when Castiel just glared at him. "Okay, witchcraft, I get it! Let's find my brother! Lead the way!"

* * *

Once Castiel had a definite trail, it wasn't all that difficult to find Sam. Deeper into the forest they came upon a cabin that had probably belonged to a witch, possibly a hunter, many years ago. Like almost all things touched by magic, it had an ancient aura, making it hard for Dean to believe that the building had ever been anything but abandoned. Dean drew his sword as they approached and Castiel kept looking around for danger. It was really hard to read this location, as something seemed to interfere with his awareness. Asmodeus must have been here not too long ago.

When they tried the door, it opened with a loud screech of the hinges that made Dean duck instinctively, expecting an enemy to attack. But nothing happened, so Castiel went inside. It was dim, but light came in through the broken windows, shining right on Sam, who was bound to a chair.

"Sam!" Castiel breathed in relief, rushing to free him from the ropes. "Are you okay?" Sam groaned as Castiel touched him, checking the wounds. He seemed banged up and once he has regained enough of his consciousness, he jumped, clearly startled and expecting someone else.

"Easy there, it's just us," Dean said, lowering his sword. Sam's forehead creased in confusion, but his eyes were clearing up.

"Who… are you?" he asked, getting a smirk from Dean. "The dude from the town?"

"Yep. Your own personal knight to save you from peril," he said with a grin, which only made Sam wrinkle his nose. He wiggled his hands, trying to help Cas loosen them.

"Cas… Cas I'm so glad to see you," Sam said, breathless, then he winced as his hands came loose. "I wasn't sure you would come…"

"Of course I came," Castiel said, putting his hands on Sam's cheeks, then wiping the hair out of his face. "You're my family, Sam." Sam smiled, but then he winced as Cas brushed the bruise on his forehead.

"I'm sorry, Cas… I shouldn't have left. I'm so sorry," he muttered.

"It's okay Sam, everything's okay," he said, hugging Sam. The young man reacted at once, pulling Cas close, breathing heavily into his shoulder. Dean watched the scene with a small smile, but his stance was still alert.

"But why… why are you here? Did Cas hire you?" Sam asked once he had pulled away from the hug, studying Dean in confusion.

"Not quite. I'm Dean Winchester and I was looking for you, Sam."

"What…? Winchester? You're a royal? Why are you looking for me?" Sam asked, guarded now.

"Yeah, crown prince of Winchester, at your service!" Dean said with a wide grin.

"Sorry that I'm not taking a knee, kinda banged up here," Sam muttered, not really impressed. Dean laughed at that.

"I wouldn't make my own brother kneel for me!" Sam frowned at him, the words registering slowly. His nose wrinkled, then he looked up at Cas for confirmation.

"I'm afraid so," Castiel said. Sam stared at Cas, then, after one false start, he got up slowly.

"No. I'm _not_ your brother. I was abandoned by my parents as a baby, because I had something evil in me! A threat to the kingdom that they wanted to lock up until they could send someone to kill me. Are you here to finish the job?!" Sam shouted with more energy than Cas would have suspected possible, given his current injured state.

"Look, can we stow the family drama for later? There's still a demon around that we need to deal with," Dean said, still friendly in the face of Sam's rejection. Castiel gave Sam's arm a squeeze and the boy instinctively stepped closer to Cas, shooting Dean looks that were a mix of hurt and confusion and… maybe even longing.

"Where is Asmodeus?" Castiel asked.

"Ah… I'm not sure. He left me here because he had business to attend to," Sam answered, looking around.

"I don't like it… This feels far too easy…" Dean said, raising his sword again.

"I agree. It's best if we move," Castiel said. They made to approach the door, but a flash of movement caught Castiel's eye. A crow alighted on the window sill of one of the smashed windows. It turned its golden eye on Cas. Ice cold dread seized Castiel's heart. "We gotta move! Now!" he shouted and Dean immediately understood the urgency. He took Sam and pulled him towards the door. But it was too late.

Asmodeus materialized in front of them, his white suit impeccable, standing out against the derelict hut.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked, a smile stretching his lips. "Why won't you enjoy my hospitality for a while longer after I set you such a beautiful trap?"

"Screw you," Dean spat, pushing Sam behind himself and raising the sword.

"That's cute," the demon said with a pleasant smile and when Dean moved to swing the sword he disappeared into thin air. Castiel had only a moment to panic before he felt the strong, burning grip of the demon on him, wrapped around his throat.

"My my my, if it isn't Rapunzel. It seems I'm exceptionally lucky today!"

"Let him go!" Sam roared, but Dean grabbed his wrist and stopped him from mindlessly attacking Asmodeus. The demon laughed and both Sam and Dean were flung into the wall.

"Let him go? Boy, I'm a collector! I've been dying to get my hands on Rapunzel and you! Just think about it! A powerful witch filled to the brim with wild, raw magic, and the fabled boy king, the human with demon blood flowing through him! I'd be a fool to let you two go!" Asmodeus said with a wide smile.

"Yeah well, we're not coming with you to become part of your little zoo!" Sam spat, straining against the demon's magic.

"Luckily I don't need your consent to take you if you don't agree to unleash your powers," Asmodeus informed him pleasantly.

"What's the point, huh? Do you want to wage another war?" Dean asked, gritting his teeth. Asmodeus studied Dean.

"It looks like my little trap also caught the crown prince of Winchester. It's a good day for me. But no. I don't care for Azazel and his petty wars. Neither do I care about revenge. But it would still be nice to see the royal family crash and burn," Asmodeus said after a while. Dean struggled against the demon's hold. Asmodeus flicked his wrist and Dean flew through the air, crashing against another wall. He fell down to the floor with a thud. Dean turned with a groan, then pushed himself back on his feet without losing a beat. Castiel shouted in alarm when Asmodeus suddenly let him go. Dean managed to get his feet under him and raise his sword, but Asmodeus was quicker. With horror Cas watched the prince of hell drive a gleaming dagger into Dean's stomach. A look of surprise slackened Dean's face, before he gasped in pain when Asmodeus withdrew with weapon with a triumphant chuckle. Dean held on to his stomach, blood dripping from his lips, then he crashed to his knees where he remained kneeling. Asmodeus had clearly lost his interest, turning his back to Dean.

"Well, there's that nuisance taken care of. Now, on to more important things," the prince of hell said carelessly.

Castiel screamed, but even though Asmodeus no longer had his hands on him, the demonic magic squeezed him tight. He struggled against the power, trying to get to Dean, trying to heal him before it was too late. But his limited powers weren't enough to go against a prince of hell. He felt frustrated tears welling up in his eyes and a sickening cold feeling spreading rapidly in him. He wasn't sure if it was dread or grief or rage. But he was powerless still. All that raw magic that Asmodeus had so praised and Cas couldn't even free himself from his bonds!

But Sam could. With a roar Sam broke free from Asmodeus' hold. The demon looked at him with mild surprise, not yet concerned, but then Sam pushed his hand out, palm facing Asmodeus. His eyes flashed yellow and the demon tensed. First he started chocking, in the next second he burst into flames. His screams and the stench of sulfur seemed to fill the entire room and as Asmodeus screamed and burned, Castiel felt the invisible chains loosening. He broke free with a gasp just as Asmodeus fell and Sam crashed to his knees, breathing heavily. Castiel ran to him, still shocked.

"I'm alright! I'm… not going evil… Just drained..." Sam gasped, then he waved his arms weakly towards the opposite wall. "Go… check on Dean…" Castiel hesitated only a second, making sure Sam was not hurt, then he hurried to Dean's side. He prince had fallen to the floor, still clutching his stomach, his breathing labored and face pale. Cas kneeled beside him, gently lifting him up.

"It's alright, I'm gonna heal you," Castiel promised, feeling the tears in his eyes. Dean gave a shaky nod, his eyes scared. He slowly lifted his hands from the wound and Cas didn't hesitate to press his palm to it firmly. Dean hissed, but then instantly started coughing up blood. Castiel frowned, letting his magic flow into him, but feeling only the soft, hot give of flesh and blood.

"It's not working…" Castiel said, his voice a low, incredulous whisper. "Why! Why isn't it working?" Cas shouted now and poured more magic into the wound, desperately urging it to knit together to keep Dean's life in. Castiel felt himself panic and he looked from the blood seeping through his fingers at Dean, who had paled even more. The prince was biting his lips, the fear in his eyes slowly solidifying into acceptance.

"No! NO!" Castiel shouted and bent down to press his lips to Dean's forehead. "I can do this, just hold on!"

"Cas…" Dean rasped. "It's okay."

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut, resisting the headless rush of desperation from overwhelming him. He looked up, seeking out the crow in the window.

"Gabriel! Please help me!" By this time Sam had stumbled closer, kneeling down at Dean's feet. He studied his brother, then he looked at the crow.

"This is tragic," the crow said with Gabriel's voice. "But human lives end. It is the course of nature." Castiel felt the words like the stab of a knife and he groaned before the tears started falling.

"No. Gabriel, why are you punishing me? I never wronged you. I don't deserve this. Dean doesn't deserve this," he gasped, voice heavy with tears. He blinked them away, then he looked back down at Dean, who was looking at Castiel with a calm and loving expression.

"The dagger must have been poisoned. I have to heal the poison," he decided but even as he said this he knew that this wasn't something he could do with a snap of his fingers.

"Cas… Is there nothing you can do?" Sam asked gently. Castiel breathed in shakily.

"Dean is running out of time. If Dean dies I can't heal him," he said and Sam bit his lips.

"Cas," Dean said, his voice weak. He swallowed once, licking his lips to wet them. "It's okay… Cas, it's okay."

"No, Dean…!" Castiel told him desperately.

"Sam's alright. You're alright… It's good. Don't cry, sweetheart," he whispered. Castiel felt a slippery touch on his hand still pressed on Dean's wound. He knew that Dean was seeking to hold his hand, but still he was reluctant to take his hand from the wound. It felt like giving up, but he couldn't just deny Dean this. In the end he squeezed his eyes shut and let go to entwine his fingers with Deans. "Please. It's okay, Cas…" Castiel cried, bringing Dean's hand up to kiss it. Then he turned back the crow.

"Gabriel, please…! Help me…! Anything! I'll make a deal with you! I'll give you anything you want!" The crow remained silent, blinking once.

"There is nothing that you can give me," Gabriel said and Castiel started crying harder, holding on to Dean.

"I can't lose you!" he whispered hoarsely, his lips pressed to Dean's forehead.

"Rapunzel make your choice," Gabriel said. Sam's eyes flashed and the crow flew away, startled, the connection between it and Gabriel severed.

"Hey, Sammy?" Dean asked and Sam looked at his brother, finding a small smile on his lips. "I'm glad I got to meet you again. I… I waited so long… Thought you were lost… But I never… I never forgot my little baby brother…"

"Dean," Sam whispered.

"It was too short… But… I hope you can go back now… to the castle…" Dean smiled encouragingly. "It's… nice… Was sad without you, but if you're there… it will be different. Promise…" Sam didn't speak, he merely nodded. Sam wasn't going to tell him that there was no way that they would take him now. Not after he got Dean killed.

"Yeah… Yeah I'd like that. I'll tell mom and dad about what you did for me," Sam promised. Dean smiled at him, before he looked up at Cas. Then he closed his eyes, still with a smile on his lips.

Castiel cried pitifully and even Sam couldn't stop the tears from falling.

"Why did it have to end like this? It's not fair," Sam said breathlessly. Castiel was still crying hard, his breath stuttering with hiccups, but he bit his lips, forcing himself to wrestle back control from the unimaginable grief he felt.

"You're right… It's not fair and Dean did nothing to deserve this…," he said once he had regained his breathing. Sam looked at him, his expression forlorn. Castiel sighed, showing Sam a small smile. He reached out and brushed his palm over Sam's cheek gently. "And neither did you… I thought that if I raised you right I could protect you… Maybe even redeem myself… But I understand now that I was a fool. But there's something I can still do."

"Cas…? What are you talking about?" Sam wondered, a hint of fear in his eyes. Castiel smiled softly.

"I should have perished a long time ago… I've only been living on borrowed time… I wanted to die for so long and you gave me something special, an enjoyment for life that I hadn't known before."

"Cas, you're worrying me…" Sam whispered but Castiel only shook his head.

"Sam… Take your brother and go back to the castle. Have Dean tell the king and queen that the curse has been lifted by killing the witch who has started it all," he said.

"I… I don't understand," Sam said, but then with a dawning horror he realized what Cas was planning to do. Just as he wanted to stop him, Castiel's eyes started to glow. He reached out, putting a hand gently on Dean's forehead. Sam acted quickly and grabbed Castiel's shoulders, trying to pull him away.

"No! Stop! If you go against your vow you will die! Cas! You can't revive Dean!" Despite all the effort Sam used to pull Castiel away, he couldn't move him one bit.

"I've made my choice. I want you to be happy, both of you," Castiel said, looking at Sam, then he turned to Dean. He breathed in deeply and with the exhale he broke through the spell that locked in his powers. They burst out of him, flowing through his arms and into Dean. Sam had to watch as Castiel's skin turned white as snow, his eyes a bright blue until they too were almost white. A golden glow engulfed Dean and then the crown prince of Winchester gasped, the life returning to him in an overwhelming rush. For a moment he just lay there gasping for air, but then he sat up, touching where his wound used to be. After a moment of startled disbelief, his head turned to the side, seeking out Castiel. His eyes widened in shock, seeing Castiel sit next to him, looking like he had been drained of all color. Before Dean could speak there was a blast of light that blinded both Sam and Dean and sent them sprawling across the floor.

Dean gasped in shock, blinking his eyes and shakily getting back on his feet. Sam did the same, both of them rushing to Cas, who was sitting on the floor. Sam blinked in surprise for a moment, while Dean checked Cas over for wounds.

"You're… alive!" Sam said and Cas squinted at them both. His eyes, hair and face were quickly gaining back their color and soon he was sitting before them healthy and totally fine.

"I… I don't know why, but I'm alright," Cas said and let Sam and Dean help him to his feet. He looked up at Dean, wonder written all over his face. "Dean…" Instead of answering, Dean pulled him close and kissed him fiercely.

"Let's get out of here and worry about what has happened later, okay?" Dean asked, and Sam marveled at how quickly he was back in business after having just died. Maybe, he thought, that was just how noble princes were. Dean clapped Sam on the back, then he drew his blade and guided them all out of the cursed cabin, leaving behind the still smoldering ashes of Asmodeus.

* * *

Dean had heard many heroic fairy tale stories about brave knights beating even death, but truth to be told he was pretty shaken up. He could feel an uncomfortable dread inside of him and it was like the cold claw of death still had him in its chokehold.

But he smiled, because it was what knights did. The journey that would take them to Rapunzel's tower was relatively short compared to the time they had spent travelling to find Sam. And he did his best to chatter with Sam. The boy seemed shaken too, fretting about Jessica, about Dean, about Cas. None of them really talked about the heavy things, like Dean dying, like Sam being a cursed prince of the realm, like Cas willing to trade in his life for Dean's.

Dean just made sure he learnt as much as he could about Sam and pressed as many urgent, breathless kisses into Castiel's skin as he dared. (Which were many. Sam was a surprisingly heavy sleeper.)

After three days, they finally pushed aside another thick bush with too many thorns and there it was; Rapunzel's tower, bathed in the golden light of a summer evening. After the eerie sounds and equally as unsettling silences of the Wild Forest, Sam and Dean both breathed in relief to step over the threshold back into the world where they both felt they belonged, with the chorus of birds and insects and the plants swaying in the wind accompanying their almost childlike joy of having made it home.

Castiel however hesitated. He felt the old magic deep inside of him dancing around a part of him that he had long hoped sealed away. But it was alive now. Did he deserve to go back? To step into his home? Into a world that wanted nothing to do with magic?

But then Sam interrupted his thoughts. Like he used to when he was still a little child he came running through the sunflowers and the tall grass, reaching out to him to grab his hand.

"Come on, Cas! Let's go home!" he said, the smile on his face radiant like the sun and Castiel had no breath, no words to deny this boy anything. So he let himself be pulled, through the field, through the little garden door with its creaky hinges, to the door to their house.

"Welcome home, Cas," Sam said smiling. Cas looked at him, then at Dean who was casually leaning against the door frame, looking like he was at home here as well even though he had only been inside once.

"I… thank you," he said, speaking through his emotions. Sam gave him a quick hug, then he went inside, excited to wash properly. That left Cas and Dean looking at each other. Dean quirked an eyebrow, then he uncrossed his arms to hold them open.

"Come here, sweetheart," he said with a smile and Cas went with a sigh of relief, letting himself be wrapped up in Dean, gladly accepting that Dean was willing to carry his weight and let him forget what was going on outside of Rapunzel tower and all the questions the world held, just for a little while longer.

* * *

Dean was fidgeting now, an unbecoming trait for a prince, he knew, but he couldn't help it. He made it through dinner, he made it through the night but now that the morning sun shone through the windows he couldn't hold back anymore.

"What will we do know? About you and Sam?" Dean asked. "Both of you belong at court… Can't you just come home with me?" Castiel tensed, but he would accept whatever answer Sam had for him.

"I think I have to pass, I'm sorry Dean," Sam started and Dean's face fell. "This here? Cas? This is my home," he continued and looked at Cas, then he lowered his eyes in shame. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry I ran away. It was selfish of me."

"Sam…"

"No… It was! I just wanted to see something of the world but after what has happened, with people wanting to use me because of my blood and powers… Maybe it's best if I stayed home," he said. Dean and Cas exchanged a look, but then Cas reached out and put his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Listen to me, Sam. There is a world out there for you. You are meant for great things. I'm sorry I held you back all those years because I was afraid. But I'm not going anywhere now. Kids grow up and have to live their own lives," he said and Sam looked at him with wide, shining eyes. "It'd be nice though if you came to visit sometimes? I know it's a long journey from the harbor but-" Sam was out of his chair and had wrapped Cas in a fierce hug before Cas could even finish his sentence. Castiel sighed in relief, hugging Sam close, even though he was now far too big to practically sit on his lap like that.

"I know there's a lot of stuff that needs to be talked about, with Mom and Dad and maybe you don't want that… But you're welcome to come visit me, any time. I'd love to catch up and make up for lost time. I really mean it, Sammy," Dean insisted. Sam unglued himself from Cas and nodded at Dean.

"I would like that too, thank you Dean. And I'm sorry… that I don't remember you from back then." Dean laughed at Sam's contrite expression.

"You were 6 months old, of course you don't remember anything, don't sweat it!" Dean told him and Sam nodded again, still not quite happy.

"What about Cas though? Can you go back to the kingdom…?" he wondered and Dean's playful expression dropped.

"I should probably stay here… I'm still banished…," Castiel said and Sam nodded gravely.

"Maybe Dean can put in a good word with his parents?" he asked and Dean nodded right away.

"I will, I promise," he vowed, putting his hand over his heart.

They enjoyed the rest of their breakfast but then it was time for Dean to leave. As much as he would like to stay at Rapunzel's tower, this wonderful, impossible pocket of land at the edge of the realm, where nothing but Cas and Sam mattered, Dean had a life to get back to. Parents and responsibilities that he had put aside for a long time.

"I don't want to leave," Dean told both of them. "And not just because I have no horse and must walk." Sam chuckled while Castiel rolled his eyes. Poor Impala had had a long journey too and was currently happily resting in the stable. And that was where she would remain until she was ready for the journey back. "Can't you transform into a horse, Cas?"

"I'd prefer not to," Cas told him with a flat voice, which had Sam burst into laughter. Despite Cas' smile, he still studied Dean with a bit of worry. "Will be you be alright?"

"I'll accompany him to the village. He won't get lost and he can get a horse there," Sam said and Castiel heaved a sigh.

"Okay… then… Cas, this was an incredible journey and I'm curious to see where it will go next," Dean said, then he pulled Cas into a hug, pressing kisses all over his cheek. "We'll be united again, I promise."

"I know, thank you Dean," Castiel said, giving him one final squeeze, before waving at Sam and Dean, watching them go through the garden door and down the sunlit path.

"What lesson did you want to teach me?" he asked, when Sam and Dean had disappeared and a figure stepped out from the shadow of the house. The crow flew down from the roof, landing on Gabriel's shoulder.

"Magic doesn't work like humans think it does," Gabriel said, looking at Cas even though Cas kept his eyes firmly on the path leading away from his home. "Demon blood doesn't make anyone evil. Hell, the time you spent in the Wild, it didn't make you evil."

"I'm not sure," Castiel said, still refusing to meet Gabriel's eyes. He wasn't sure if he wouldn't punch him in the face for all the heartache he had allowed him to suffer.

"Well, you'd better be sure now. The impetus curse was a wicked thing, but you overcame it. Finally, wholly." Now that got Castiel's attention and he turned to look at Gabriel. "The final key to undoing it was your selfless act. You were willing to die in order to undo Dean's death. Even though you thought this was black magic. It isn't, Cas. You're just so terrified of what you can do that you never understood that…"

"No, you're wrong. Reviving the death? It's not natural," Cas argued.

"Magic isn't black and white like that, Cas. You did a good thing to revive Dean. Dean didn't die by natural means. It was evil magic and evil deeds that stole his life. Healing Dean, even if it meant sacrificing your own life, was a good thing," Gabriel insisted. Castiel looked at him, uncertain.

"But don't go carelessly throwing your life away again, alright?" Gabriel warned and it was only half said in jest.

"I make no promises."

"Gosh, you're a dick. But I like you for it. You'll hear from me again," Gabriel said then with a snap of his fingers he disappeared. Castiel shook his head before his gaze was instinctively drawn to the road again. He felt a tremor in his fingers as the yearning grew. He grasped his hands in front of his stomach, forcing the magic to quiet down.

Well, he didn't understand it yet, but with Sam fleeing the nest an inevitability he would have enough time to reacquaint himself with the magic burning brightly now in his core, unwilling to be locked away again.

Epilogue: Home

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel!"

Castiel cast his eyes towards the window with a flare of irritation. The crow was sitting in the window sill, jumping back and forth impatiently until it had Cas' attention. Its golden eyes shone with delight when Cas glared at it.

"It's the prince," it croaked and Castiel's heart seemed to skip a beat. Sam was down in the cottage, enjoying a cup of tea while doing his coursework, so there was only one other prince Gabriel could mean. Castiel patted down his hair nervously. "He'll be coming in through the back door again." Castiel flicked his hand, sending a blast of air at the crow, making it fly away with an indignant cry that echoed with Gabriel's laughter.

Castiel pulled open the door to the spiral staircase and hurried down, startling Sam who was used to Castiel's usual unhurried movement about the house.

"What's wrong?" Sam called, but Castiel waved at him, pulling open the backdoor. And there he was, beautiful like the morning sun, his hair shining golden, his gait easy as he walked from the stables to the door. Dean held up a letter casually, as if he came to this door every other day and not like they hadn't seen each other in a season.

"Hey Cas," Dean said and shouted in alarm when Cas wrapped him up in a hug, the letter getting a bit rumpled between them. "Aww, Cas, I missed you too." Dean said, then Cas stepped to the side a bit, letting Dean come in.

"Dean, it's good to see you again so soon!" Sam said, rising from his chair with a delighted laugh. Dean and Sam had kept up a stream of letters between them and even though they didn't know each other that well, it felt natural for them to greet each other with heart-felt hugs.

"I couldn't stay away for long, could I? And I have this!" Dean said, holding up the envelope again, which he then tossed at Cas.

"What is it?" Sam wondered.

"That, brother, is a glossy invitation to court for an official hearing on Cas' banishment," Dean announced proudly. "Sam you should come too so they can see how well you grew up under Cas' care." Sam beamed at him but he faltered a bit when he looked at Cas' expression and finding him worried.

"Cas? What's wrong?"

"What if the king and queen will banish me again…?" Cas wondered, then he slipped his finger under the seal to pull it open and carefully got out the letter. It held nothing but information on the occasion and the date, which didn't really make him feel better. He knew that nothing about the realm's approach to magic had changed. There was no longer a place for him at court.

"If they won't lift your banishment then they will lose their heir to the throne," Dean said with a cheerful smile. Both Castiel and Sam stared at him, to which Dean shrugged. "You have nothing to worry about Cas. I chose you. Over the realm, over the crown, I chose you." Dean went to Cas' side, plucking the letter out of his hands, then pulling Cas close to him to kiss him. "And I can't wait to court your properly. With or without a future crown to tempt you with."

Castiel blinked up at him, but then he laughed and nodded. No matter what happened, Castiel knew that he had found his home in Sam and Dean.

_The End._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Let me know what you thought! ♥♥


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